


L'imposture

by un_petit_peu_de_moi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternative Universe - College, FC Barcelona, Leo makes some bad calls and then he angsts about it a bit, M/M, Neymar is way too trusting, Unwilling emotional abuse, kinda fake/pretend relationship but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 58,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/un_petit_peu_de_moi/pseuds/un_petit_peu_de_moi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo doesn't mean to send the message to Neymar. But it's too late when he realizes his mistake, Neymar already sent <em>I like you too </em> and Leo knows he should deal with this like an adult, but he doesn't know how to break someone's heart, even less so Neymar's. So he does the next best thing : he pretends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uuuh. A multi-chaptered work, yay. God, it's so much commitment. Anyway, this was prompted by a prompt going around on tumblr. I believe the phrasing was : 'Shit I sent that I like you text to the wrong person and you said I like you too’ AU ([x](http://auseverywhere.tumblr.com/post/100682696387/shit-i-sent-that-i-like-you-text-to-the-wrong)). So, I took it and ran with it. I hope you'll enjoy it! For now it's T-rated, but it should feature some sexual things a bit later, although I don't think I'll write any actual smut. Also it's likely it'll become a bit angsty later down the line too.

His hands are unsure as he types a few words only to delete them. She said, _would you_ _accompany me_ _to my sister's wedding? She told me to bring my boyfriend._

 

It's his cue. It's the moment they have been tiptoeing around for several months. He isn't her boyfriend, but he could be.

 

A new message comes in, _I'll be happy if you only c_ _a_ _me as a friend. But I'll be happier if you c_ _a_ _me as a_ _boyfriend_ _._

 

She's giving him a way out but he doesn't need it. He stares at his screen, searching for the right words. He never confessed to anybody, and he isn't sure what he should say. Nothing comes to his mind, nothing that feels adequate at least.

 

He scratches his head nervously and closes his eyes for a moment, but they snap open immediately after when his phone buzzes with an incoming message.

 

_Great match today, you were amazing as usual._

 

Leo frowns. He knows he's taking his time to answer but he didn't expect her to change the subject. Leo is always slow with these kind of things – this is something she should be used to. She may be feeling more nervous and unsure than he thought, even though all of this is only supposed to be the logical next step. It still makes him feel quite clumsy at this whole thing. It's not supposed to be this hard after all, and he quickly types the best answer he came up with so far.

 

_I'd love to be your boyfriend._

_I like you._

 

 _Sorry I took so long,_ he sends as an after thought.

 

He's rather satisfied with himself. He couldn't have been clearer than that, and all he has to do now is wait. She takes time to reply, and Leo starts fidgeting nervously, messing with his hair and gnawing on his lips, worrying he worded it wrong.

 

It seems to take forever before she finally answers.

 

_I like you too._

 

He slouches against the headboard of his bed, a smile forming on his lips, and his heart is thundering away in his ribcage.

 

 _I've like you since the first day_ is the next message, and then his phone keeps buzzing, messages after messages coming in for Leo to read.

 

_I couldn't stop liking you even though it felt dumb_

_I never thought you could like me back._

_I'd never imagined you'd be the one confessing to me._

 

Leo frowns. Antonella is the one who initiated this conversation, and _this_ , this has been coming for months now, this shouldn't be a surprise.

 

_I still can't believe it._

_I didn't even think you had noticed it. You're so oblivious to everything._

_Which is actually really cool because I can stare at you very easily and you never notice._

 

Leo fidgets a bit, embarrassed. He imagines her eyes on him, when he isn't looking. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him. Yet, even as a blush takes over his features with each new messages, there's a feeling brewing in his stomach, something that feels awfully close to dread. Something feels off, and it worries him.

 

_I'm so happy my hands can't stop shaking._

_I want to tell Dani._

_Can I tell Dani? I need to tell someone._

 

Leo assumes Dani is Daniella, Antonella's best-friend. He thinks she was already aware of everything – the both of them seemed not to hide anything from each other. He's about to answer _of course_ but new texts keep coming in.

 

_You're just so so good and nice. I can't believe you'd like someone like me._

_I can't believe you'd want to be my boyfriend._

_I didn't even know you liked men._

_I never knew you could look at me this way._

 

It's definitely dread in his stomach, filling his veins and spreading quickly throughout his body. Antonella is a woman, he knows that, he remembers the sensation of her breast pressing against his chest when she hugs him, remembers vividly the soft features of her face and the gorgeous curves of her body.

 

He looks at the name of the sender at the top of the screen, and where he expects to find _Anto_ he reads _Neymar_ _Jr_.

 

 _Neymar_.

 

Neymar, his junior, the loud guy who looks at him shyly but grins so wide it takes all of his face. Neymar, the boy who goes to every of his matches and never fails to cheer enthusiastically from the stands. Neymar, the _man_ with whom he has never exchanged more than a few words but who still managed to coax his number out of him and who sends him a text after every single match to congratulate him.

 

 _Neymar,_ who sent him a text as usual and Leo casually confessed to him in return.

 

He didn't check the sender of the message before answering, persuaded it was Antonella, and now he's left frozen, eyes wide with shock as he looks at his phone. He can't quite believe what he just did. He should rectify things quickly but he can't do anything more than stare dumbly as the messages keep coming in, one after the other.

 

_I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight, I'm smiling too hard._

_God, I'm going to be the best boyfriend you ever had!_

_I mean I'll try._

_Have you ever had any boyfriend before? Or only girlfriends?_

_Have you ever had sex with a man before?_

_Shit sorry forget I asked that, it was too forward._

_But just in case you haven't, I know what to do so no worry._

_Still, forget what I said._

 

Leo is distantly aware that he should say something, and that with each new texts he doesn't respond to he's going to make this even more embarrassing for Neymar. But he can't just send _o_ _o_ _ps wrong person._ He would need to explain things a bit more than that but right now he's too dumbfounded to formulate sentences.

 

_Sorry I'm talking so much I just don't know where to put myself_

_Is this too much?_

_Oh wait it's so late already you must be tired because of the match._

_You were really impressive by the way._

_You're always so impressive._

_It's mesmerizing, watching you play._

_Watching you._

_Do I sound creepy?_

_I really like you._

_God I'm so creepy._

_Sorry, I'll shut up now and let you sleep._

 

His phone stops buzzing, finally. He stares at the screen for several minutes, but the last message he received is _good night_ and nothing comes after that. He breathes again, and it hits him suddenly. He doesn't know how he's going to deal with--- whatever it is that just happened. He doesn't remember ever fucking up so bad.

 

He closes his eyes and worms under his covers. He needs to sleep, and hopefully when he wakes up tomorrow, his mind will be clearer, and he'll have found a way to sort this mess out.

 

 

–

 

 

When he wakes up, he doesn't have any solution, but he made up his mind. He needs to set things straight with Neymar, and he needs to do this to his face.

 

He sends a quick, _can you meet me before lunch?_ to Neymar before he has the time to think twice. Neymar replies within seconds with a row of enthusiastic emojis and it's embarrassing.

 

He goes about his day as usual, but he spends the whole morning worrying about what he's going to say. He tries to come up with an adequate speech. Lunch comes around and he still doesn't have a single idea of what to say, but he's determined to go through with it.

 

He meets Neymar near the football field, away from the stares. Neymar comes up to him, jeans riding so low on his hips Leo can see Spongebob-patterned boxer briefs peeking out. Neymar stops a few feet away from him and he beams at him.

 

“Hi,” Neymar says, casual and giddy at the same time.

 

Leo still doesn't know how to say it but he knows what he needs to say. He needs to apologize and say it was a mistake, and then he needs to tell Neymar he can't reciprocate his feelings, and that he's sorry he let him confess that much instead of stopping him immediately.

 

“Thanks for coming. I need to talk to you about yesterday.”

 

For a second, as short as it is, Neymar completely loses the composure he put up until now. The casualness disappears and there's an unabashed joy in his eyes. He looks embarrassed and blissful at the same time, his eyes shining and the corner of his mouth twitching as though trying to keep himself from smiling because that would be too obvious, even though there is nothing as obvious as his eyes right now. There are raw emotions displayed in Neymar's eyes. It takes Leo's words away.

 

Neymar giggles nervously. “Yesterday uh. I overdid it didn't I? Sorry for flooding your phone.” He looks sheepish, a blush on his cheeks but he looks too happy to be ashamed.

 

He is the picture of someone in love, and Leo can't say anything. He doesn't have nice enough words to let Neymar down gently. He has nothing to say that could soften the blow, and a blow it's going to be. Leo tries to imagine crushing the raw happiness in Neymar's eyes and he comes up with nothing. He doesn't know how to break someone's heart.

 

“Leo?” Neymar questions curiously after a few seconds. He looks a bit unsure, fidgeting under Leo's unwavering stare.

 

“I forgot,” Leo says suddenly, and Neymar looks confused. “I forgot what I wanted to tell you. I'll text you when I remember?”

 

The confused look doesn't leave Neymar's face but he nods, and this is it. This is it, because Leo can't bring himself to tell Neymar the truth, he can't bring himself to be that cruel. He's always owned up to his mistakes, always took full responsibility for them, he's always been ready to shoulder any blame, but now there's this kid with eyes too open and Leo's resolve disappears.

 

He walks away, feeling Neymar's confused gaze on his back. He doesn't know what to do – he needs a way out but he can't find any.

 

 

–

 

 

When Gerard and Masche enter his room, Leo hasn't moved for a few hours. He's laying on his bed in the dark, curled on his side, facing away from the door.

 

“What are you doing?” Mascherano asks.

 

“Leave me alone,” Leo mumbles. He needs time to think and he's nowhere near done.

 

“No but really what are you doing?” That's Gerard's voice, loud and mocking. “I get that you need to brood all alone when we lose a match, but we won yesterday. I know, I was there.”

 

Leo hears Masche huffs but he doesn't contradict Gerard. Instead he says _Leo,_ sternly.

 

Leo refuses to answer. This is no one's business but his own, and he needs to deal with this by himself.

 

“Leo,” Masche repeats.

 

A few seconds pass and finally Gerard bursts out laughing.

 

“I can't believe you're 22 and you still deal with your problems like when you were 10.”

 

His laugh is loud and he can't see it but he knows Masche is smiling too. So he swiftly turns over and throws his pillow at Geri, successfully muffling his laughter.

 

Mascherano shakes his head, a smile at the corner of his lips. “Come on, what happened for you to be moping like that?”

 

He stares at the both of them, frowning. He doesn't like people meddling with his problems, but he's been friends with the two of them for over a decade. He knows he can trust them, and he could do with some help right now.

 

“I messed up.” He licks his lips nervously and goes on, “I meant to confess to Anto last night but I ended up sending the message to Neymar. And he said he liked me back.”

 

Leo stares at Gerard, because he knows that's where the laughter is going to come from, and he's proved right a second later when Gerard bursts out laughing, his loud voice booming on the walls of Leo's room. Leo glares.

 

“This isn't a joke. I tried talking to him today, to explain what happened. But I couldn't.”

 

“What do you mean you couldn't?” Masche frowns.

 

“I couldn't. He looked too... happy.”

 

“Why didn't you tell him it was a mistake right then?”

 

“I was too shocked. I mean he didn't--” Leo doesn't want to reveal too much about the whole thing, but he can't keep it to himself if he wants help. “He didn't only send _one_ message.”

 

They both look confused now, so Leo gingerly hands them his phone and let them scroll through the messages Neymar sent him yesterday. Gerard wolf-whistles.

 

“Well shit.”

 

Leo nods, defeated. “And today he looked… exactly like those messages sound.”

 

Gerard and Mascherano don't answer, scrolling down the messages again, as though not quite able to believe what they are reading. Finally, Masche speak out.

 

“You should have corrected him after the first message,” he says, his tone reproachful.

 

“I know that already. But I was too shocked to react,” he mutters. “And then after everything he wrote… I couldn't just send _sorry_ _wrong person_.”

 

“So what are you going to do?” Geri inquires.

 

“I don't know.” Leo is honest. He doesn't know. He's been thinking about it for hours and he doesn't know what he's going to do with Neymar. “I don't think I can tell him the truth.”

 

“But you can't just go out with him either,” Gerard says,but it sounds like a question so Leo nods. “Maybe you could break up with him?”

 

“After one day?” Masche answers for him, cocking an eyebrow. “He might as well tell him the truth because it's going to break his heart all the same.”

 

None of them say anything for a while after that. He knows Gerard and Mascherano are trying to think of something too, and he hopes they will be more successful than him.

 

“Maybe get him to break up with you then?” Gerard says out of the blue, breaking the silence.

 

Leo frowns, “What do you mean?”

 

“I don't know. But he doesn't know you that well, does he? You could just make him realize he doesn't actually like _you_ , and then he'd break up with you.”

 

Mascherano frowns, looking disapproving. “I personally think you should just tell him the truth. I wouldn't like someone to fake going out with me out of _pity_.”

 

“It's not pity!” Leo protests, but his voice is weak. Shielding Neymar from the truth to spare his feelings sounds a lot like pity, but even knowing that Leo can't bring himself to be honest with him.

 

“It wouldn't last.” Gerard talks for him.” And this is Neymar we're talking about, not you. If Leo told him his farts smelt like roses, he would believe him.” Pressured by both Leo's and Masche's disbelieving stares, he adds, “Probably.”

 

“How can you be so sure? Do you even know him?” Masche inquires.

 

“No. But he seems like he would.” To prove his point, he brandishes Leo's phone, where Neymar's messages are still being displayed, and waves it in the air.

 

“Alright,” Masche concedes finally. “But what if he doesn't fall out of love? What if he actually likes Leo?”

 

“Well Leo just has to make sure he doesn't.” Under their blank stares, Gerard elaborates, “Make himself unlikable.”

 

Mascherano's eyes light up with understanding. “You have to act like an asshole,” he says. Leo is about to protest so he continues, “you _have_ to act like an asshole, so Neymar stops liking you and break up with you.”

 

Leo wants to protest, unsure what his being an asshole would entail, but he realizes this may actually be a good idea. They haven't been 'together' for more than a day and they've never talked much. Neymar doesn't really know him and it wouldn't be too hard to make him think he misjudged his character. He would be disappointed that Leo isn't who he thought he was, but he wouldn't be heartbroken, and before long he would break up with Leo. So instead he nods.

 

Gerard grins like a Cheshire cats. “This is going to be fun.”

 

Masche throws him a look. He then directs his gaze towards Leo. “I want it to be said that if things turn sour, I warned you.”

 

“You didn't warn me,” Leo says.

 

“I just did. This is me warning you.” Masche stares straight at him, daring him to protest.

 

Leo sighs, accepting defeat. “Alright. What should I do then?”

 

Of course, no one agrees on what he should do. It's a long night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it? As you can see it's supposed to be 16 chapters of about that same length. I never wrote lengthy multi-chaptered fics, I hope it's an appropriate length for a chapter. Oh also, fair warning, you might feel sad for Neymar. I mean, poor guy is going to get played with a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo tries being an asshole, but he's not very successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is. From the comments you guys left, I notice two recurring remarks : 1) second hand embarrassment concerning Neymar, which I very well understand, and to be honest I also feel it when writing him. Well, there might be more of this later on. 2) looking forward to Leo being an asshole. Well, I'm not sure how much of an asshole Leo will be. The story is from his point of view after all, which I think makes it impossible for him to appear like a total asshole. Well, he also tries, but whether he succeeds in being asshole-ish, you'll discover by yourself.  
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, and if some of you feels like the last scene is similar to something they know-- well more of that later !

“I'm not so sure about it.”

 

He watches Neymar from afar, laughing out loud with his friends. They're rowdy and loud, hitting each others and then clapping their hands while they laugh. Neymar's laugh is unmistakable from afar, a mix of hoarse cackling and high-pitched wailing.

 

“We've talked about it Leo. If you miss the first date, it'll leave a strong impression on him.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo mutters. “Still, asking him it out on a date even though we've barely talked seems a bit sudden.”

 

He _knows_ it's actually a good idea. Missing their first date is bound to anger Neymar, or at least break some of the delusions he has going on. Leo just isn't isn't sure how you ask someone out on a date, even less so when you're supposed to stand them up.

 

He takes a deep breath and finally walks towards the small group. Neymar has his back to him, and his friends see him first. They look surprised and then there is something mischievous in their eyes, and they look at Leo knowingly while Neymar is still busy talking and gesticulating.

 

Leo clears his throat behind Neymar's back once he reaches him, making him still for a second before he whips around. As soon as he sees Leo, his face lights up and he beams at him with unrivaled joy. It makes him think of a puppy wagging his tail happily.

 

“Hey, could I talk to you for a second?” He glances pointedly at Neymar's friends, who are watching them with smirks on their face.

 

“Sure!” Neymar nods eagerly and lets Leo guide him away, a spring in his step.

 

Leo is pretty sure he can still feel Neymar's friends's eyes on their backs.

 

“You friends know? About us?” he blurts out.

 

“Yeah I told them! I shouldn't have?” Neymar glances at him curiously.

 

“No it's fine,” Leo is quick to answer. “Who did you tell then?”

 

“Uh, Dani and Rafa,” he points behind their backs, “the two idiots I was with. Also my sis. And Jordi last time I met him. Also my sociology teacher and-”

 

“Your what?” Leo interrupts him, incredulous.

 

“My sociology teacher. Me and Dani talked about you in class, so he heard us and now all my classmates know too.”

 

“How many person does it make?” Leo asks again, starting to be worried because ideally, he would have liked no one to know anything.

 

“Uh, about 100, I think? We were in the lecture theater and--”

 

Neymar keeps talking but Leo stops listening. A _hundred_. Hundred people, who Leo doesn't even know, who think he and Neymar are going out. Who _kn_ _o_ _w_ they are going out. It makes his head swim, his blood running cold, but at the same time he feels more certain than ever that _this_ is the right plan of action. If he tells Neymar the truth, then not only would he be heartbroken, he'd also have to explain to a hundred people that all of this had been a scam since the beginning, that he'd been made a fool of. He can't imagine how humiliating that would be, and he would rather no one ever knew about this. This whole affair, as sordid as it is, is his business, and Leo hates to have people meddle with his business.

 

“Leo?” he snaps back to reality when Neymar calls his name questioningly. He's looking down at him, his cap shading his eyes, and Leo stares blankly at him for a few seconds.

 

“Do I have something on my face?” Neymar asks. “Or is it my cap?”

 

“No it's— Actually yes. It's your cap. It's ugly.”

 

 _This_ , this is what he's supposed to do, and he should get used to that. He spies Neymar's reaction attentively, but Neymar only stills for a moment before giggling loudly.

 

“That's what my mom said too!”

 

“Well you should listen to your mom.”

 

Neymar shrugs, “I like it. I think it looks cool.”

 

“It's not. It's embarrassing.”

 

Leo's face is impassive but Neymar doesn't take him seriously anyway. He seems to take that as banter and he only giggles some more.

 

“I hope you'll look better on Saturday.”

 

“Saturday?” that catches Neymar's attention immediately. “What happens on Saturday?”

 

“That's what I wanted to talk about. Are you free on Saturday?” Leo thinks he's being rather smooth there.

 

“For like, a date?” Neymar asks, voice hesitant and eyes so unguarded that Leo can see the desperate hope in them, clear as day.

 

“Yeah. A date.”

 

Neymar nods so quickly Leo's afraid his head will tear off. “I'm free, I'm free! Well, actually I have plans with Rafa but no one cares about Rafa, I'm 100% free.”

 

He has the widest smile on, so wide it's splitting his face in two. He looks impatient and excited, and Leo feels bad knowing he's going to stand him up. He tries to look Neymar in the eyes, not to shy away from the feelings he's causing in him, but the genuineness there is too much for him to handle and he ultimately averts his eyes.

 

“Then Saturday, 4 pm, in front of the mall?” he asks.

 

“I'll be there!”

 

Leo nods, and he thinks that's the end of it. He isn't sure how to signify to Neymar that the conversation is over, so he doesn't do anything, staring at him silently.

 

Neymar visibly fidgets. “What class do you have now? Can I walk you there?”

 

“Oh, if you want.”

 

The walk is silent and awkward for the first minute. Leo is content to walk in silence, but Neymar is vibrating with energy, restless next to him. He finally starts talking.

 

“So what should I wear then? Since you don't like my caps.”

 

“I don't know.” He thinks a bit, “maybe we should just buy you new clothes at the mall because all your outfits are distasteful.”

 

Leo never paid too much attention to how Neymar dress, but from what he can tell it's flashy and trendy. He doesn't particularly hate it, but he pretends he does. He probably fails to put any heat behind the words, because Neymar once again acts as though he's teasing him, grinning easily.

 

“Should I let you pick everything? I'm curious about your taste. Though I need to wear clothes that show off my natural assets.”

 

“Your assets?” Leo looks him up and down. “What are they?”

 

“My muscles.” Neymar flexes his biceps. “Look at these powerful arms! I can carry tons of things with these monsters.”

 

Leo laughs despite himself, unable to keep himself from being amused by Neymar's antics.

 

“Also my abs. They're rock hard.” He shows off his stomach. “Look, touch it.” In the face of Leo's refusal, he insists, “Come on, touch it! You can punch me even, I wouldn't feel a thing.”

 

“You wouldn't?” Leo tilts his head, lifting his hand ever so slightly and Neymar quickly lets his shirt drop to cover his stomach.

 

“Maybe not today, I ate beans at lunch.”

 

“Did you?” Leo probes, and realizes too late he's teasing Neymar in a friendly way.

 

“Yeah but-- I have other assets!” Neymar seems in a haste to change the topic. “My feet for one. They're very beautiful. It's gold in a human body.”

 

“Why aren't you showing them off then?”

 

“Nah, they're my hidden treasure,” he whispers, as though sharing a secret, his eyes mischievous. “Same for you! You should exploit your assets!”

 

“What are they?”

 

“Well, your thighs for one. You should wear shorter jeans. Or shorts. You should wear short shorts, and like, something tight that compliments your ass nicely because it's definitely one of your best asset.”

 

Leo is dumbfounded. “My...ass.”

 

“Yeah your...” Neymar has a grin on his face but it falters as he realizes what he said and his face turns red. “...ass.” He glances ahead quickly. “Isn't that your classroom? I guess I'm leaving you there. See you on Saturday!”

 

And with that, he turns around and walks away with quick steps, glancing over his shoulders once before whipping his head back around and walking quicker.

 

In the classroom, Leo sits down heavily next to Gerard.

 

“What happened?” Gerard asks.

 

“Nothing,” he mutters.

 

“Something definitely happened. Your ears are bright red.”

 

“Nothing,” he repeats.

 

Of course, Gerard won't stop probing, and Leo has to fight against himself not to ask him _what do you think of my ass?_ Gerard wouldn't let him live.

 

 

–

 

 

The day of the date, Leo is restless. He plays FIFA in Gerard's room, his phone left unattended in his own room. He's already late by half an hour, and he can't focus properly on the game. He keeps losing, which in turn makes him more annoyed.

 

Masche scores another goal and Leo throws his controller away in frustration.

 

Gerard bursts out laughing, “You're the worst sore loser I've ever seen!”

 

Leo doesn't answer, slouching in the couch.

 

“Come on, don't sulk.”

 

“I'm not sulking.”

 

“Yeah, sure. Stop thinking about Neymar, that won't help at all. He should stop waiting for you soon.”

 

Leo lets out a deep sigh, slouching further into the couch. The sky is full of dark gray clouds, and if Neymar is still at their meeting place, he will surely leave when the rain starts falling.

 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Gerard wonders.

 

“I don't like movies.”

 

“Oh of course I forgot, you only like naps and football.” Gerard gets up, pulling on his arm. “Well you'll nap in the theater, come on.”

 

Leo lets Gerard drag him to the movie theater, in the hope it will distract him. They take Masche's cars, and Masche makes Geri sit in the back, Gerard complaining the whole time about needing space for his long legs and how Leo's small legs can fit better in the back, but Leo suspects that's why Mascherano made him seat in the back in the first place.

 

Gerard picks a comedy and Leo doesn't laugh once. His mind isn't at ease. He wonders what messages he will come back to on his phone after that.

 

When the movie ends, the rain is pouring. The whole city looks gray, the clouds dripping water everywhere. Masche diligently stops at a red light and speeds up the wipers, and it's the most depressing sound in the world to Leo's ears. He looks outside. They're in front of the mall, where he and Neymar were supposed to meet. He thinks of Neymar, how he must have been there three hours ago. How he must have waited, eager as always, and how his excitement must have died down with the minutes of Leo not coming. He wonders how long Neymar waited.

 

He can almost see him, there in the rain, slouched against a wall, his head down as he loses all hopes, his hair and clothes plastered to his face – a sad, depressing figure under the rain that the passer-by would avoid.

 

Leo frowns. Three hours ago it didn't rain and that's really not how he should be imagining it.

 

It only takes him a second to realize there _is_ someone standing in the rain in front of the mall, and before he has the time to think about it, he opens the door of Masche's car and runs out. Mascherano screams after him that the light is green but Leo barely listens.

 

The water splashes on his pants and the rain soaks in his shirt and runs down his back. When he reaches Neymar, he's already completely wet.

 

Neymar's leaning against a wall, shivering visibly because of the cold rain, his arms wrapped around his body. He isn't wearing any caps for once, maybe because Leo said he hated it, and his hair is plastered to his face. He's looking down, and he doesn't seem to have heard his steps, the heavy rain covering their sound.

 

“Neymar,” he calls quietly.

 

Neymar doesn't move at first. It takes several seconds before he slowly lifts his head to peer up at him.

 

“Leo?” he sounds dejected. “I didn't think you'd come anymore.”

 

“What are you doing there?” Leo's voice is probably harsher than he wants, but Neymar is there, has probably been there for three hours now, waiting for him under the rain, and it almost makes him angry, because who does that, _who_ waits three hours for a guy who has no intention of showing up.

 

“I--” Neymar looks confused and hurt. “I was waiting for you. We--- we had a date. You forgot?”

 

“No, I didn't forget. I just thought it was tomorrow.” He's trying to salvage Neymar and he knows he shouldn't be, but he can't stomach that look in his eyes and it's too late to look away.

 

“You said Saturday.”

 

“I did? I meant Sunday.”

 

“You did?” Neymar frowns and Leo waits for him to lash out, be angry, sulk at the very least.

 

Instead, Neymar's lips stretch and a wide smile form on his lips. “So you didn't forget then? I thought you'd forgotten me!” and then he laughs happily, seemingly _relieved_ , no longer concerned by the rain and the cold.

 

Leo has trouble swallowing through the lump in his throat. He watches Neymar's eyes crinkling in the rain as he laughs, and he feels furious at Neymar for being so forgiving.

 

His fists clench by his sides, and he thinks he's about to lash out himself since Neymar won't do it, but he's shaken out of it by the sound of a car honking. He jumps and turns to see Masche neatly parked not far away.

 

“Come on, my friend has a car, we're taking you back,” he mutters.

 

Neymar nods and follows him eagerly. He's shivering the whole way to Masche's car, but he doesn't complain. When Neymar climbs into the car, the seat behind Leo, he greets everyone there politely as though he hadn't been looking like the saddest boy in the world some minutes ago.

 

Masche doesn't start the car immediately, turning to Leo. He hears Neymar speak to Geri behind them.

 

_(“Hi.”_

 

“ _So you're Neymar right?”)_

 

Masche gives him a contrite look. “You're dirtying my car.” Leo shrugs noncommittally.

 

_(“Your clothes are as flashy as I've heard.”_

 

_Neymar giggles, “Are you really the one responsible for throwing a stink bomb in the teacher's room?”)_

 

“You better clean it,” Masche says in a voice that breaks no arguments.

 

_(“Yep that's me.”_

 

“ _You saved me from an exam I would have failed.”)_

 

“Gerard will do it,” he says.

 

_(“I'm selfless like that.”_

 

“ _Dani says there are only idiots to be selfless.”)_

 

“Alright then.” Before starting the car, Masche throws a fierce look in the mirror. “Calm down you two!”

 

Leo turns around to see Gerard has Neymar in a headlock. He lets him go slowly under Masche's glare. Leo rises his eyebrows at Gerard and Geri shrugs in response.

 

Neymar and Gerard are loud the whole way home, Neymar laughing loudly at his friend's jokes, his cold quickly forgotten.

 

 

–

 

 

They take Neymar back to his dorm, walking him to his doorstep out of some sort of collective guilt at how much he's shivering.

 

Before entering his room, Neymar turns to him, hesitant.

 

“So… we still have a date tomorrow then?”

 

“Yes of course.” He ignores Masche's disapproving stare.

 

Neymar smiles widely. “I'll go directly to your room then, to make sure you come.” He doesn't sound reproachful or sarcastic in the slightest. He takes a step forward hesitantly, before swiftly leaning down and pressing a quick kiss on Leo's lips. It's just a peck, too quick for Leo to feel anything more than a pressure, but it still catches him off-guard.

 

Neymar is blushing a bit, a pleased and shy smile on his lips as he mumbles _bye_ and closes his door.

 

It takes some seconds and Gerard pushing him for Leo to snap out of his shock. He shouldn't be surprised – they're supposed to go out, of course Neymar would go for that at some point.

 

“Well he's fun,” Geri finally says to break the silence as they make their way back to their respective building.

 

“Yeah what was up with that?” Masche's tone is reproachful, side-eyeing Geri. “You're not supposed to befriend him.”

 

“I can't help it! Leo put him next to me, of course I was going to talk to him.”

 

Masche scoffs, and nothing is said for a few more seconds. Gerard, never one to stay silent, finally admits, “I felt bad for how much he was shivering. I can't believe he waited for you all this time.”

 

Leo doesn't say anything for a while. Neymar's dejected face in the rain flashes in his mind again and again. He can't get past how quick he was to forgive – as though there wasn't even something worth forgiving.

 

“You still think it's going to be fun?" he asks Gerard. "He waited three hours under the rain and he's not even mad.”

 

None of them say anything after that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep so, as I said, Leo isn't successful in his first try, but he'll try harder next time.  
> Also, as I said, the last scene may be familiar to some of you - I more or less copied a scene from a Japanese drama called Hana Yori Dango, so if some you watched it you might have a sense of déjà vu.  
> Anyway, uh, that's it for today. Hope you weren't disappointed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me again.  
> Well, this chapters starts out quite nicely, as far as Leo's plan go, but it ends with goo. I don't have much to say about it except, hopefully you'll enjoy it ^^

Leo's head is resting on the desk, listening to the rain falling outside. The sound of his phone vibrating against the wood desk snaps him out of his reverie, the whole desk buzzing along with the small device. He doesn't bother lifting his head, only moving his phone to put the screen in his line of sight.

 

 _It's still raining today. Do you want to go to the theater instead of the mall?_ reads the text from Neymar.

 

 _We could just cancel it_ , he answers.

 

_Do you want to?_

 

_I already went to the theater yesterday._

 

_Oh. I didn't know._

 

_Oh_ is a short word, but it conveys a lot of feelings, and Leo wonders whether Neymar is remembering right now, how he was stood up, how he waited for him under the rain while Leo was apparently busy having fun with his friends.

 

Neymar gets quickly back on his feet.  _But we'll see a different movie, it's fine!_

 

_I don't want to go two days in a row._

 

_Why?_

 

_It's a waste of money_

 

_I'll pay for you!_

 

_It's also a waste of your money_

 

_No it's not_

_I'll pay the popcorn too!_

_Pretty please_

 

Neymar sends these three messages in a row, and ends them with a teary-eyed emoji. With a sigh, Leo finally answers, _ok._

 

_Which movies are you interested in?_

 

_None._

 

_I'll pick one then. I'll pick you up at 4?_

 

 _Ok. Don't pick a long one. I don't like spending time in theaters._ Leo isn't lying, but he's not being completely truthful either. He's just doing his best to be as disagreeable as possible.

 

_Why?_

 

_It feels like a waste of time._

 

_Really?_

… _but you're still ok with going with me?_

_Shit, I feel bad now, I'm abusing your kindness._

 

Leo stares at his phone screen blankly for several minutes.

 

“I can't wait for Neymar to think I'm an asshole,” he finally mumbles, burying his head in his arms. He already feels bad and the date hasn't even started yet.

 

“Well that's up to you,” Masche says, from where he's sitting on his bed, reading. Gerard is next to him, typing away on his phone and glancing over Masche's shoulders at his books from time to time. He frowns and grimaces every time.

 

“He's coming by at 4. We're going to see a movie,” Leo announces.

 

“So that first date is going to happen in the end.” Masche closes his book and puts it aside, reclining comfortably against the headboard. “This is an opportunity to make Neymar dislike you. Passiveness won't be enough with him, you need to _actually_ do bad things.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Ruin the movie,” Gerard adds his own two cents. “Fart during love scenes.”

 

That makes Leo lift his head, intending to pull a face at Geri, but he ends up laughing when he sees his shit-eating grin.

 

Masche laughs too but he still slaps Gerard's head.

 

“He's not wrong though: ruin the date. Don't pay for your place. If he liked the movie then tell him you found it boring. If he talks to you during the movie, ignore him.”

 

Leo nods. He's starting to get the gist of it, and he's determined now more than ever to see this whole scam to its end – for his own good and for Neymar's, because there was nothing good about the way he forgave him so quickly, and the memory of it ticks Leo off every time he remembers it.

 

“Don't be nice, basically,” Gerard sums up.

 

Masche nods. “That's it yeah. Don't be nice, ever. Don't compliment him, don't ask him things about his life, never thank him, never apologize. Don't joke around with him, don't laugh at his jokes. Don't talk about yourself, don't start conversations--”

 

“Yeah that part shouldn't be too hard,” Leo mutters.

 

Gerard laughs loudly. “Oh look, it's self-aware!”

 

Leo throws a book at him, but the smile on Gerard's face is mirrored on his own.

 

Masche resumes talking, unperturbed. “You have to create a constant atmosphere of discomfort and awkwardness, something that won't make him want to share moments with you, so he'll naturally just stay away from you.”

 

“In short, be a grade-A asshole,” Geri supplies helpfully.

 

Masche nods. “In fact, it would be easier if you knew what he likes about you, so you can now what to avoid doing.”

 

Leo frowns. “How do I do that? Ask him? I can't ask him that.”

 

Masche shrugs, visibly not caring about whether he could do things, as long as things were done in the end. Leo sighs, accepting defeat.

 

He gets up and makes his way to the bed, nudging his friends to the side so he can lay down there too. He buries his face in his pillow, enjoying the warm comfort it provides. It's enough to block the light, but the rain and Geri's voice are still there to disturb him.

 

“Are you going to sulk?”

 

“I don't sulk.” Leo's voice come out muffled because of the pillow. He isn't sure Gerard understands his answer, but he most likely doesn't care, and a few seconds later there's a big hand petting his head.

 

“We should just bring Neymar to you next time we lose a match. Seeing you sulk like a child is going to break all his delusions at once.”

 

Leo is too comfortable to kick Gerard as it is, but the spirit is there.

 

 

–

 

 

Neymar picks him up at 4 precisely. Leo opens the door and Neymar is standing there, a snapback fit on his head and a wide smile on his face.

 

“You still don't know how to dress I see,” is the first thing Leo says.

 

Neymar, once again, doesn't seem to take the jab seriously. He cackles. “I don't expect you to understand. I have to say I don't have any shirts quite like yours.”

 

Leo frowns, looking down at his shirt, a simple back long-sleeved shirt with a red portrait of Virgin Mary in the middle. He thinks it looks great.

 

He fidgets, feeling self-conscious and itching to take a quick look in a mirror. Gerard laughs loudly behind him. That, at least, diverts Neymar's attention away from his plain but _stylish_ shirt.

 

“Oh hey!” Neymar greets his friends, as he finally notices them. “Are you coming too?”

 

Leo realizes the moment Neymar asks that it would actually be quite an effective way to ruin the date. “Yes they are,” Leo intervenes, his voice covering the _no_ of Gerard and Masche.

 

“Really?”

 

“You don't mind, do you?” Leo asks, and he knows his tone doesn't give much of a choice to Neymar.

 

“No, of course not,” Neymar says. He looks disappointed, his shoulders slumping forward, but he puts a smile on his face. “More people is more fun.”

 

Masche takes his time putting his shoes on, passively protesting the fact he's dragged along against his will. He looks even less happy when it becomes clear he's expected to lend his car and drive them around, and everything he does after that is painfully slow – buckling his seat-belt, starting the car, driving, parking.

 

Neymar, like Leo asked, picks a short movie, even though his eyes keep flickering to the action movie posters in the hall. Leo makes Neymar sit at the far end of their row, next to Masche, and he sits on the opposite end. Neymar looks surprised at the arrangement, looking confusedly at the seats.

 

“Is there something wrong?” Leo prods.

 

“I thought--” Neymar starts confusedly but then he seems to think better of it, and a small, disappointed smile takes over his features. “No, nothing wrong.”

 

Leo sits down with a deep sigh, and Geri pats his knees compassionately.

 

Sitting Neymar next to Masche, he expected Neymar not to feel comfortable, and to stay still and silent during the whole movie. Apparently, he was wrong, because every time he glances at the pair, Neymar is leaning towards Masche, whispering things to him with an excited smile on his face. Mascherano for his part looks greatly annoyed, boring holes into the screen with how stubbornly he's staring at it.

 

When the movie ends, Neymar immediately sticks to his side.

 

“What did you think about the movie? It was fun!” he says, trying to engage him in a conversation.

 

“It sucked,” Leo answers curtly. “A waste of time.”

 

(He hears Masche grumbles _indeed_ behind him.)

 

Neymar laughs at his answer. “You're so grumpy! But that's because it sucked so much that it's so fun.”

 

And then he starts blabbering, going on and on about the things he found funny, reenacting some scenes. Leo grunts, not sparing Neymar a glance, but he still see him gesticulating in his the periphery of his vision. The thing is, he's actually quite amusing, and Leo does his best not to smile.

 

He has to control himself until they reach the car, and then Neymar is dropped next to Gerard in the backseat, and they both converse with each other instead. He's not sure it's actually helpful that Gerard is befriending Neymar, but the two of them are loud in the back, and if Leo sometimes laugh he can pretend it's because of Geri.

 

Neymar goes out of the car really fast when they come back, and he waits for Leo to slowly climb out, rooted in front of him so he doesn't have any way to escape. Neymar looks a bit shy and excited at the same time.

 

“Do you want to see my room? My dorm is just there.” He points casually behind his back, but he looks restless, unable to stand still as he looks at Leo hopefully.

 

Leo opens his mouth, about to invite his friends along, again, but that's the moment Masche chooses to speak. “Well, see you later then.” And with that he's gone, Gerard in tow, vengefully leaving Leo on his own.

 

Leo's shoulders sag. “Alright yeah,” he tells Neymar, and he doesn't have the heart to look at his face when he answers. He looks down at his legs and they're already restless and giddy enough. How can legs even be giddy, he has no idea but Neymar certainly is pulling this off.

 

When Neymar shows him his room, he looks as anxious as he looks eager, spreading his arms and standing proudly.

 

“Tada!” he exclaims.

 

Leo looks around quickly. It's a room as small as his own, with a bed, a desk, asmall couch, but a brand new TV, the screen almost too big for the small piece of furniture it's resting on. There's a kitchenette in the corner, and dishes are piling up in the sink. There are clothes haphazardly thrown everywhere, and the desk doesn't have any papers on it, only a mountain of snapbacks. The walls are entirely covered with family pictures and posters of football clubs.

 

“Barça?” he says dubiously, studying one such poster.

 

Neymar nods eagerly.

 

Leo loves Barça. That's the team he always plays at FIFA, and when he was younger he wore Barça jerseys to play football with his friends.

 

“I hate Barça,” he says.

 

Neymar tilts his head, his grin faltering. “You support Real Madrid?”

 

Leo nods. “Barça is a bunch of divers and cheaters.”

 

Neymar considers him for a moment, and then he smirks,looking amused. “Playing FIFA against you is going to be so much fun.” He turns around, walking to the kitchenette and Leo heaves a sigh. “Do you want a drink?”

 

“Hot chocolate,” Leo answers. He heads to the small couch, and has to take several shirts away before he's able to flop down on it. “If you intended to invite me over, you could have cleaned up a bit.”

 

Neymar laughs airily, his back turned to him.

 

Leo insists, “Didn't your mom teach you that? If you don't know how to receive guests, then don't invite any.”

 

Neymar turns around, peering at him curiously.

 

“But I don't have the motivation to clean up every time you come, so you might as well get used to it now. And it's all clean clothes. I think?” he adds with a confused frown on his face.

 

“You don't make me want to come back here at all,” Leo grumbles, and Neymar shrugs.

 

A few seconds later, he hands him a mug of hot chocolate. It's not the best he's ever had, something heated in the microwave, and he makes sure Neymar is aware of that.

 

“I'd buy better one, but you already said you wouldn't be coming back,” Neymar says cheekily, his eyes glinting with mischief. Leo wonders if everything he says is bound to be taken as teasing by Neymar, because if so he's not going to get anywhere.

 

Neymar sits down right next to him, squishing Leo against the armrest, even though the couch isn't that small and Leo is pretty sure there's space left on the other side.

 

Neymar's whole side presses against him, from shoulders to knees. Neymar's knee is bony, prodding against his own, but his thigh is warm even through the fabric of his jeans. From this close, he smells like bubble gum.

 

“Isn't that the first time we're ever alone together?” Neymar wonders aloud, and Leo eyes him from the corner of his eyes, taking another sip of his chocolate. Neymar goes on. “It's a bit weird. We never actually talked much before, and yet here we are,” a blush creeps up on Neymar's cheeks, “going out,” he finishes, stuttering a bit.

 

Leo looks away immediately.

 

Neymar fidgets a bit on the couch, and given how close they're sitting to each other, it moves Leo around too. “Stop that,” he mutters, and Neymar smiles sheepishly, apologetic.

 

“I don't think I've realized it for real. We went on a date today?” his skin flushes again. “I can't wrap my mind around that.”

 

Neymar moves his hands tentatively, sliding it from his own lap to Leo's, and soon enough there are slender fingers resting on his thigh. Neymar heaves a sigh of relief when Leo fails to shake him off and Leo desperately wants to remind him he _ruined_ their actual first date by not showing up, and also the second by making his friends tag along.

 

“I thought… I mean, I fell for you- I mean I _crushed_ on you since the first day, when I saw you play football and you were all tiny and almighty. But I never planned to do anything about that, you know? I didn't even know you liked men at all.”

 

“Was I supposed to tell you?” Leo says, sarcastically. “My sexuality is none of your business.”

 

Neymar looks admonished. “Of course. I just meant I was surprised.” He seems to ponder over it for a bit, and then he turns fully towards Leo. Leo doesn't have any choice but to at least turn his head towards him, though he takes sips of his drink to partially hide Neymar's face from view.

 

“Have you ever had a boyfriend then?”

 

Leo nods. “One.”

 

Neymar licks his lips nervously and blurts out, “Have you ever had gay sex?”

 

Leo spits out his hot chocolate, quickly putting it away so he can cough with no danger. Neymar pats his back helpfully but his eyes don't leave his face, expectant.

 

“What the hell--” Leo avoids Neymar's eyes, trying to keep himself from blushing.

 

“I know it's an unusual question but… I mean, you know, when thinking about you, I assume you give you know? Which is good because I like receiving and all, but I thought it would be nice to make sure of that, you know? So I--”

 

“Shut up, shut up,” Leo cuts him short, and it's already too late for his face, he feels it heat up and he can't stop his blush anymore. He can hide it though, and he swiftly covers his face with his hands to conceal it, and not to have to look at Neymar's shamelessly expectant eyes anymore.

 

Neymar grabs his hands, attempting to detach them from his face. “Hey no! Don't be embarrassed, you'll make me embarrassed too. Leo!” he squeals.

 

Leo peeks at him from behind his hands, and Neymar has indeed started blushing too. Two grown men blushing in a small room – Leo thinks this is the most ridiculous and embarrassing situation he's ever been in, and it's definitely not how he's supposed to be acting around Neymar.

 

He finally takes his hands away from his face, after valiantly fighting against his blush. Neymar looks embarrassed too now, but his eyes don't stray away from him.

 

Leo clears his throat. “I did have sex with a man before.”

 

“And?” Neymar prods.

 

“And you were right in your assumption,” he mumbles.

 

“I knew it!” Neymar seems pleased with his answer. Leo takes some moments to gather his wits, mortified and unable to believe he willingly answered that question. “Well, it's fine if you don't like over-sharing, that's one of the thing I've always liked about you.” Leo throws Neymar a puzzled look and Neymar elaborates. “Because I'm not like that at all you know? I can't keep things to myself, it all just spills out from my mouth. But you keep to yourself and all. You're kinda mysterious,” Neymar says, but he giggles at the end and Leo isn't sure whether that last part is a joke or not.

 

“Is that why you like me then? Because you don't know me?” Leo tries to make his voice impassive, but he's actually hopeful. It would be easy enough making Neymar dislike him if that was the case.

 

“Uh, no-- I mean I don't know you a whole lot, but a bit right? I want to know you better, and I've watched you a lot you know?” Neymar stumbles over his words, seemingly caught off-guard by the question.

 

“What do you like about me then?” Leo asks. Knowing what Neymar likes about him would after all be the easiest way to know what not to do and who not to be. He's also quite curious about how someone he only talked to thrice in his life could fall so blissfully in love with him.

 

“Your height,” is Neymar's first answer and Leo feels quite offended. “You're so-- so small, but the first time I saw you on that football field, I thought you were the coolest and biggest man I've ever seen before. You were so resilient, and focused and determined, it was, I don't know, overwhelming. And then you scored and everyone hugged you and I realized how tiny you really were and I thought _man, that guy looks squishable_.”

 

Leo coughs at the word _squishable_ , but Neymar goes on, unperturbed.

 

“And I mean it's just, I like how you're so nice, and so humble and you're embarrassed by compliments, but you're still confident and you never back down from anything. You barely looked at me in the eyes when we talked the first time, but you didn't tell me to fuck off even though you were sweaty and probably tired. And then the few times I met your eyes-- I like your eyes, they're dark and I can never tell what you're thinking about but I feel like you see right through me.”

 

Leo can't take it midway through. He looks away, his face burning but he can't escape Neymar, feels his body pressed against his own on the small couch. He desperately wants Neymar to stop, but of course Neymar goes on.

 

“I like your smile too. And it's so weird because Rafa says you have a resting bitch face, but then when you smile you look so dumb, it's so cute. You're cute. I mean, not only cute, you have a nice body too, with muscles and biceps and all, and also thighs, I sort of want you to crush my head between your thighs and also your ass is the roundest I've ever seen and also I've never seen it but there are rumors about how you're packing, and I wouldn't mind either way, but I like thinking about it, and--”

 

Leo finally can't take it anymore and cuts him off. “Shut up, oh god _shut up,”_ and he can't keep his hands from covering his face again.

 

“See, you're all embarrassed again, you can't take any compliments. It's just, it's so cute.” Neymar says, his voice strangled. Leo turns to him and his face is flushed too. He looks flustered and there's a glimmer in his eyes, something desperate and needy, something Leo didn't thought he'd see in Neymar's eyes but it's there clear as day: _arousal_ , because Neymar is easy enough to have been aroused by his own words and his own thoughts.

 

Leo closes his eyes, trying to close his ears too if possible. It isn't going the way he wants it _at all_. He is supposed to make this evening a shit one for Neymar, he's supposed to make everything awkward all the time, but he's the only awkward one here, and he doesn't completely hate the glimmer in Neymar's eyes, and he hates that.

 

“Leo,” Neymar calls out. His voice is so close Leo thinks he's talking directly into his ear. “Leo,” he calls again when Leo refuses to budge.

 

Neymar pries his hands away from his face, and Leo lets him. Their eyes meet, Neymar's face inches away from his, long eyelashes and clear brown eyes fixated on him. They're so close Neymar's bangs flutter against his forehead, tickling softly. He still smells like bubble-gum, and there are a few acne scars on his face that Leo never noticed before.

 

Leo wonders how he missed the fact that Neymar is absolutely gorgeous.

 

Neymar leans forward, slowly, and Leo sees it coming miles away. Neymar presses his lips against his, and Leo doesn't stop him. The thought is nagging away at his mind, his reason and brain telling him to back off but Neymar's lips are plump and soft, and his heart is still beating way too fast because of Neymar's speech.

 

He can't help it, it's a compulsion, and when Neymar parts his lips a bit, Leo deepens the kiss eagerly. He tastes bubble gum on Neymar's tongue, as sweet as the kiss he's sharing with him. Neymar lifts his hands but Leo still has enough resolve left to catch them, forcing them back down in his lap, and he holds them there so Neymar can't touch, so neither of them can touch.

 

Later, later he'll regret it, he'll regret how Neymar looked shy and utterly pleased after the kiss, he'll regret the soft smile that wouldn't leave Neymar's lips when he left, he'll regret the way his own lips tingled for the whole evening.

 

But he doesn't regret anything for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, I said it ended with goo. Well, Leo and Neymar will get closed despite everything after all.  
> Um, next chapter will actually be quite similar, since the overall tone won't be too heavy, though there'll be some drama in there. Also I'm starting college again, but I'll try to update it once a week - that's my aim, and I have two other chapters ready, so I should be able to do it for a while.  
> See you next time !


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! So, this chapter isn't too tough, I think? There's a bit of drama in it, but nothing earth-shattering, probably. I'm not the best judge of that. At any rate, enjoy !

As far as the plan 'make Neymar hate him' goes, their first official date is a complete failure.

 

Worse than the smile that wouldn't leave Neymar's face after the kiss, is the fact that Leo's mind itself felt a bit fuzzy, wrapped in some cottony fog that made him unable to even think about being mean. Not only did he fail to ruin the date, he also enjoyed it, which really goes against everything he should have been doing.

 

“What are you sighing for?” Gerard asks, sitting down next to him. “Did you yet again prove to be the worst villain in history?”

 

Leo huffs, and smiles at his friend. “I'm not a villain. And I was doing alright, but he...” Leo trails off, embarrassed as he thinks about the events of last night.

 

“Hm?” Gerard tilts his head, questioning. “Come on, what happened!”

 

Gerard probes him for several minutes, poking him and being generally loud and annoying, until Leo finally relents.

 

“I did what Masche said. I asked what he liked about me.”

 

“And?”

 

“I shouldn't have.”

 

Gerard considers him for a moment, and then his eyes flick to his ears, and Leo knows they must be bright red right now. Geri grins. “Oh,” he drawls. “You shouldn't have? What went wrong? Was the list too weird? Too delusional? Too naughty?”

 

“Too long,” Leo bemoans. “And then he kissed me.” _And I kissed back,_ he doesn't say.

 

Gerard is quiet for a second, processing his words, and then he roars with laughter, drawing the attention of all other students to them.

 

“Geri,” Leo says between his teeth, and Gerard ruffles his hair in a weak attempt to appease him, even though there is still a wide, shit-eating grin on his face.

 

“Well, next time it happens, tell him he has bad breath,” he suggests.

 

This isn't actually a bad idea, and so Leo doesn't say anything about the grin that won't leave Gerard's face.

 

 

–

 

 

He's shuffling in the corridor, taking his time walking back to his dorm, when a voice he recognizes all too well calls out his name. He stops, waiting for Neymar to catch up to him.

 

“Leo! I haven't seen you since Sunday, it's been a long time.”

 

“Sunday was yesterday.”

 

“A long time,” Neymar insists, smiling cheekily. “Are you going back to your dorm? Can I walk you there?”

 

“Sure,” Leo mutters.

 

Neymar's hand brushes against his as they walk in the least inconspicuous way possible, but judging from Neymar's face he probably thinks he's being subtle. Leo doesn't hold his hand – of course he doesn't – but he lets it brush against his.

 

“I talked to Dani and Rafa this morning,” Neymar starts slowly, but then he seems struck with an idea and his voice speeds up. “You know Dani and Rafa? They're my friends, I was talking to them last time. Do you know them? Dani says you never talked, but he knows a lot of people so maybe you've heard of him before. You probably don't know Rafa though, right? He's an idiot, but he gets all the girls, it's awful when we're partying.”

 

Leo frowns, confused at Neymar's rambling. “No, I don't know either of them,” he says, trying to put him back on track.

 

“Really? Too bad. But anyway, I was talking to Dani this morning, and Rafa, and we're going to meet at my dorm to play FIFA and stuff on Friday. It would be nice to have a fourth player, and they said they'd be interest in meeting you, you know.” Neymar shrugs noncommittally but his posture is tense and Leo can guess Neymar really wants him to come.

 

“Meeting me?” he frowns. “We've been going out for a week, and you already want me to meet your friends? You're too bold,” he chastises Neymar.

 

Neymar looks sheepish for a minute, but he recovers quickly. “It's nothing big though! It's just, hanging out.” He frowns, “I hanged out with your friends too, right?” The frown disappears and is replaced by a devilish smile, “you're quite bold yourself Sir.”

 

Neymar's feelings change too fast for Leo to do anything about them, and in the end what was meant to be rude is once again disarmed and made harmless by Neymar.

 

Neymar breaks into a giggling fit. “Will you come then?” he finally asks. “It won't be too big, just some take-outs and video games. I told Dani and Rafa you were into Real Madrid, so they intend to gang up on you at FIFA.”

 

“Real Ma-- right,” Leo quickly catches himself before he lets his shock surface. “I'll take them on any time,” he mutters, unhappy that anyone could think about defeating him at anything.

 

“That's a yes then? Great!” Leo realizes his mistake but it's too late, and Neymar is already cheering. “Come by at 6 then!”

 

Leo opens his mouth, about to refuse and tell Neymar he can't be bothered to come but his eyes catch something at the end of the hallway. Long brown hair falling on soft curves, a pretty face and doe eyes. Their eyes meet, and Antonella stops walking, too.

 

It suddenly dawns on Leo, like rain pouring over his head in a cloudless sky: he never answered her message.

 

She asked him to be his boyfriend, she confessed to him, and Leo never answered, didn't talk to her for a week. She looks as shocked as he feels, her eyes shifting to his right, where he knows Neymar stands. She looks back at him, and she looks sad and maybe a bit angry, and Leo wants to call her name but his throat is dry.

 

She looks down and then someone shakes her, and Leo's gaze shits to that person. It's Daniella, Antonella's bestfriend, and she's throwing him the most furious look he's ever received, and then she steers Antonella away, and Leo still hasn't been able to move an inch.

 

He stares helplessly at Antonella's retreating figure, his heart beating fast in his ribcage and he's overcome with such a sudden sense of guilt that he wants to throw up. He can't believe that he messed up, that he messed up _again_.

 

“Leo?” a voice calls his name curiously, and then there's an arm slung around his shoulders and a face hiding his vision, clear brown eyes peering at him. “Why did you stop walking?”

 

“I--” He moves his head, to see behind Neymar's head but Antonella is already gone. He feels lost for a moment, anxious.

 

“Leooo,” Neymar calls again, almost singing his name.

 

Leo is angry at himself, and he's still supposed to reject Neymar, and what would he even tell Antonella anyway? He can't do anything as long as he's with Neymar, he can't do anything as long as Neymar is still there hanging on, liking him instead of hating him.

 

“Back off,” he says coldly, pushing Neymar away, harder than necessary.

 

Neymar looks confused, and maybe a little hurt, and Leo thinks _good_.

 

“Don't give me that look. You're always trying to touch me, invading my personal space. I hate that.”

 

“Oh, sorry I didn't--”

 

“Yeah yeah. Just stop alright? It's annoying and overbearing.”

 

Neymar snaps his mouth shut, and he nods slowly. He looks like a sad puppy, chastised after being caught causing trouble. Except Neymar has no business feeling _guilty_ of all things, and Leo can't stomach that much guilt in one day.

 

He stomps away angrily, angry at Neymar for blaming himself, and angry at himself because this whole thing is his damn fault anyway.

 

Neymar shouts, hesitantly, “I'll see you on Friday?”

 

Leo keeps walking.

 

 

–

 

 

He meets Neymar several times during the week, and it's obvious he tries hard not to get to close, standing feet away, not trying to invade the imaginary safety zone around Leo. Every time Neymar sees him, he looks happy, reaching out to him before stopping himself, and fiddling with one thing or another instead, as though not knowing what to do with his hands if he can't touch Leo.

 

It makes Leo feels so guilty that he's the one reaching out finally, rising on his toes one day to plant a peck on Neymar's lips in a quiet corridor.

 

Neymar stills, shocked.

 

Leo sighs. “Don't be like that,” he says, keeping it vague and hoping Neymar will understand anyway. “Tell you friends I'll come on Friday, ok?”

 

Neymar nods dumbly, still silent. Leo mutters bye and walks away. He glances over his shoulders, once, and Neymar has the stupidest, happiest smile on his face, eyes all scrunched up from smiling.

 

Masche and Geri are at the end of the corridor, watching their interaction, and when Leo reaches them, their eyes are still riveted behind him.

 

Gerard whistles low. “That's a really wide smile,” he comments.

 

Masche shakes his head. “You shouldn't have done that.”

 

Leo huffs. “I'm supposed to make him dislike me, not make him… look like that,” he finishes lamely.

 

“You mean sad? Because I suspect you'll need to make him sad if you want him to break up with you,” Masche says, always right, always the voice of reason.

 

“Whatever,” Leo mutters.

 

It's not only about making Neymar sad though. He wants Neymar to come out of this unscathed, possibly sad but unchanged. He doesn't want to ingrain into Neymar's head the idea that being tactile is wrong, that being _himself_ is wrong. He just wants to make Neymar angry – just angry, just that.

 

 

–

 

 

He's laying on his bed next to Gerard, staring off into space while his friend taps away on his phone.

 

“So, what are you going to do around Neymar's friends?” he asks. “You should act like an asshole there too.”

 

Leo groans. “But I don't want to embarrass him in front of his friends.”

 

“Shouldn't you though? They'll tell him to break up with you.”

 

“I don't know,” Leo sighs. It's easier being rude and mean in private, ignoring Neymar's texts (though they keep coming anyway) or pretending he's not listening to what he says. It's not so easy if they are with other people in close quarters, strangers' eyes watching him. But Geri has a point, and Leo tries to steel himself forthe possibility of dismissing Neymar publicly.

 

Mascherano comes out of the bathroom, the artificial odor of rose invading the room when the door open.

 

“I wonder what you did in there.” Gerard smirks, annoyingly, except Gerard doesn't know how to smirk, he just grins widely with more or less mischief in his eyes.

 

As expected, Mascherano completely ignores Gerard. “He's friend with Dani Alves, right?” he asks Leo. “Then don't try anything funny around him, he'll see right through you.”

 

“Why? You know him?”

 

Masche shrugs. “I've talked to him a few times, and I just know things. Treat Neymar badly in front of him and he'll find a way to discover this whole thing is a scam. He's… perceptive.”

 

“Then what do I do? I just go there and spend a regular night with Neymar and his friends?”

 

Masche nods.

 

“Being friendly with Neymar isn't going to help,” Leo whines.

 

Masche doesn't show any sympathy, immediately biting back. “Well I told you you shouldn't have backtracked like you did.”

 

Feeling disgruntled, Leo turns around, flopping on his stomach and burying his face into his pillow.

 

 

–

 

 

When he knocks on Neymar's door, he's greeted by a brown-skinned man with a bunch of tattoos on his arms and the most welcoming smile on his face. The man hugs him warmly, as though they've been friends for a long time.

 

“Leo!” Neymar shouts happily from behind the guy. He walks towards him, and Leo is getting used to the puppy-like eagerness he displays every time he greets him.

 

Neymar hesitates for a second, before wrapping him in a hug too, placing a chaste kiss on his neck, where neither of his friends can see. It's a cute gesture, and Leo thinks things would be easier if Neymar wasn't such a likable person.

 

“I'm glad you came,” Neymar says shyly, moving back just enough to look at him. He looks relieved, unwilling to let him go, and of course he would be, since Leo had him believe he wouldn't come a good part of the week.

 

“I didn't come here to watch you cuddle your boyfriend,” someone says flatly from behind them.

 

Neymar lets him go finally, casually slinging an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Let me introduce you! The guy here,” he says, pointing to the one who opened the door, a man of average height dressed in a definitely non-average way, “is Dani. He's like my big bro. He's super cool. This other guy here,” Neymar points to the other person, a man with a square jaw, furrowed brows and a handsome face, “is Rafinha. Nobody cares about Rafinha. He's lame.”

 

Neymar lets him go when Rafinha surges towards him, and they fight around for a bit. They both have serious looks on their faces as they battle it out, and Leo is confused, wondering if he should maybe stop them.

 

“Don't let yourself be fooled by Rafa's looks,” Dani says, coming up to him. “He's a sarcastic little shit.” He smiles, a conniving look in his eyes. “Ney is a little shit too, but he's the nicest one around.”

 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Leo mumbles under his breath. He keeps his eyes down – Masche said Dani is perceptive and that makes him wary. He'd rather they didn't make eye contact.

 

When he looks back at Neymar and Rafinha, they've stopped fighting, and they're both smiling like children.

 

“Nice to meet you dude,” Rafinha finally says. “I hear you've sacrificed yourself and went out with this idiot right there. Good luck with that.”

 

Neymar hits him and Rafinha hits back.

 

“There there there. Calm down children.” Dani comes between them, slinging an arm around the both of them and steering them towards the couch.

 

Rafinha sprawls on the floor and Neymar graciously gives Leo his seat on the couch. But as soon as Leo sits down, Neymar snuggles between his legs on the floor, and Leo can't spread his thighs wide enough to keep his calves from pressing against Neymar's shoulders.

 

“What do you want to drink?” Dani calls from the small kitchen corner.

 

“A beer!” Rafinha and Neymar say at the same time.

 

“Oh, I bought good chocolate for you Leo, if you want,” Neymar says, tipping his head back to peer up at him from the floor.

 

Leo is barely surprised Neymar actually listened to his stupid critic, but he's still embarrassed and annoyed by it. “A hot chocolate then,” he mumbles.

 

“Alright, a hot chocolate and two glasses of orange juice,” Dani says.

 

Neymar and Rafinha protest of course, and watching them bicker back and forth with Dani, they really look like children. Leo can't help laughing as they argue for five whole minutes, throwing some Portuguese swear words here and there.

 

In the end, Dani wins this round, and Neymar slouches between his legs, displeased. The chocolate in Leo's hands is delicious, warm, sweet and soft as it goes down his throat, and he sighs in contentment. That draws Neymar's attention, and he peers up at him again.

 

Leo smiles down at him. “Thanks for the chocolate,” he mouths to him, and Neymar smiles, looking proud and pleased.

 

The evening passes by quickly. They spend the time playing FIFA, Neymar playing Madrid with him while Dani and Rafinha take Barcelona. Of course, Leo wins, and with him Real Madrid, but he takes that over losing. Neymar is also quite happy, jumping off the couch and pointing mockingly at Rafinha to rub it in.

 

After one particularly tough game, he takes Leo in his arms, celebrating the on-screen goal like Leo's teammates celebrate his real-life one.

 

“I've always wanted to do this,” Neymar admits after lifting him up for a few seconds, earning a startled look from Leo. “When I watch your match and you score, I've always wanted to run up to you to hug you. It seems like a lot of fun, and from afar you always look very squishable.”

 

Of course, Neymar doesn't know how to keep his voice quiet, and if Leo managed to control his embarrassment at the declaration, it's impossible when Neymar's friends start howling behind them.

 

“Watch your mouth Ney, you're making the poor boy embarrassed,” Dani says, laughing.

 

“Is he only squishable from afar?” Rafinha probes. “He's not as good from up close?”

 

“No he is!” Neymar rushes to say, throwing an angry look at Rafinha. He's starting to look embarrassed too, which Leo guesses was Rafinha's aim, and Neymar quickly turns back to him. “You are,” he insists, a determined look on his face as he reassures Leo.

 

Neymar doesn't stop there, and he starts going on and on about how Leo's size makes him very easy to hug, how he fits very nicely in his arms, how he's probably the best stuffed animal around, and so on. Dani and Rafinha barely restrain their laughter, and Leo doesn't have any other way to stop Neymar than by kissing him, a rushed peck on the mouth that shuts him up instantly.

 

He figures Neymar's silence is worth the embarrassment of his friends' catcalls.

 

Later, they order take-outs, and for the second part of the night, the games they play vary, and Leo finds himself playing Mario Kart. He isn't that familiar with the game, thus losing, thus moping around a bit because he hates losing.

 

Neymar knocks his legs softly, peering up at him, again, like he's done the whole night when he wanted to look at Leo. It's bad enough he keeps leaning against his calves, resting his head against his knees, or that Leo's hands inadvertently brushed against his skin a few times, but when Neymar looks up at him like that, his eyes look big, his eyelashes long, and he looks _cute_.

 

Leo doesn't think it would be reasonable to resent Neymar for being pretty, but he doesn't need that. He already keeps forgetting, all through the night, that he's not _actually_ with Neymar, and that all of this is a travesty. It hurts to remember, because it's a fun night. He laughs plenty, and everyone there is delightful and hilarious. It's easy not to pretend, the guys making him comfortable in no time, and he hates that as soon as he's out there, he'll go back to being as much of an asshole as he can with Neymar.

 

At the end of the night, while Neymar is in the toilets, Dani scoots closer to him.

 

“It's great you could make it in the end. Neymar is very happy to have you there.” Dani watches him and Leo resolutely looks at the TV. “He's had a crush on you for several months after all. The night you confessed to him,” (Leo wants to cringe every time he hears the words _confessed_ or _boyfriends_ ), “he couldn't stay put. He called me and blabbered for a good hour.”

 

“Sorry?” Leo offers.

 

“Not your fault. He really looked forward to going on a date with you, too,” Dani says, casually. “Too bad you didn't show up, right?”

 

Leo thinks it's a bit like receiving a punch in the face. He feels a pang in his heart, guilt, but he did that, he wanted to do that. And he'll do that again, probably. The thought isn't calming at all, and he can't bear Dani's appraising gaze. He looks down, scratching his jeans nervously.

 

“Sorry. I forgot. I didn't, I--” he stutters and trails off. He doesn't have any valid justifications for missing their first date, and he doesn't want to have any. Neymar won't be angry at him, but he wonders if maybe his salvation will come from Dani, and despite his anxiety, he almost looks forward to Dani bashing him, needs it a bit desperately, for someone other than himself to be angry at himself.

 

But there's a sympathetic slap on his back, and Dani slings an arm around his shoulders.

 

“There there, don't kill yourself over this.”

 

Leo startles, looking at Dani with wide-eyes.

 

Dani smiles gently. “I can see you're torturing yourself over this. You seem genuine.” He ruffles his hair. “Take good care of Ney, ok?”

 

Neymar comes back in the room, and Rafinha, who's been silently listening up until now, immediately starts bickering with him.

 

Dani's arm doesn't leave his shoulders and Leo wants to scream.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest when I re-read the end I laughed because ah, the irony.  
> Anyway! Some have noticed the fact Leo had yet to talk to Antonella, and now Leo has also noticed that fact.  
> Also, next chapter will be--- well, it'll start nicely and then end not as nicely. I actually consider what will be happening in the next chapter one of Leo's meanest moment so... look out for it, I guess. At any rate, I hope you've enjoyed this one ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. So, I remember saying this chapter was going to be a bit tough, right? It starts off nicely enough, but then it gets a bit sad and then sadder.  
> For that matter, I should also probably warn you for internalized homophobia, at the end (well it's a bit more complicated than that but it happens so)  
> For anyone feeling sad, sorry, for anyone looking forward to Leo being mean, enjoy.

He doesn't see Neymar for a few days after meeting his friends, but Neymar keeps texting him enthusiastically, and there are only so many times Leo can pretend he doesn't have his phone on him.

 

Dani Alves entrusted Leo with Neymar and Leo doesn't feel strong enough to be an asshole right now, so he swiftly avoids Neymar until he finds the courage to be mean again.

 

His phone vibrates again, signaling another message from Neymar. A picture is attached this time, of Neymar holding a college scarf, a fierce look on his face, and this two friends are in the background standing with matching scarves.

 

 _We're going to the match tonight!_ the caption reads.

 

Leo can't help smiling at the picture and at Neymar's face, his brows furrowed as he tries to look aggressive but if anything Leo would say he looks ridiculous.He's about to put his phone away again, having no intention of answering the text, but others come in.

 

_If you win I'll reward you <3_

_with my mouth I mean._

_I mean if you win I can blow you._

_Wow that sounded less embarrassing in my head._

 

Leo forgets his resolve not to answer at all and rushes to type a message as quickly as he can.

 

_How could it be any less embarrassing in your head?!_

 

Neymar, as he is wont to do, answers almost immediately. _I don't know!_ and then _are you blushing?_

 

 _No_ , he replies, even though his ears are burning and he's actively trying not to think about Neymar's mouth.

 

_I'm sure you are, I know you are!_

_That was a serious offer also_

 

 _No_ , Leo refuses flatly.

 

_I'm not kidding I'll do it_

 

Despite Leo sending another firm _no_ , Neymar doesn't give up.

 

_I'm good at that_

 

 _No. Neymar no. Stop._ In a desperate attempt to make it stop, Leo throws his phone away, making it bounce back on his bed.

 

He can barely handle Neymar from afar, he wonders how he'll manage him in the flesh.

 

 

–

 

 

Before Leo enters the pitch, he wonders where Neymar will be seated, but he doesn't wonder too long. As soon as he steps out of the locker-room, his attention is drawn by an excited voice right by the alley, screaming his name.

 

He looks up and there is Neymar, brandishing college items and looking overall excited.

 

It draws the attention of everyone around them too, and Leo glances down quickly before anyone can direct their stare towards him.

 

He forgets about Neymar during the match, too focused on the game to think about anything but the ball, and when the half-time comes around and neither team has scored yet, he's in too sour a mood to look up at the stands when he goes back to the locker-room, walking quickly with frustration.

 

Leo finally scores a goal after eighty minutes of play, and it's such a relief when all his teammates come to hug him and congratulate him, like euphoria injected directly into his veins. The stands are cheering, and he thinks he can hear him then, Neymar, calling his name loudly.

 

It's not until the match ends, the score unchanged, that Leo lets himself ease up, content as he walks back slowly to the locker room. He nears the stands and Neymar tries to attract his attention again.

 

“Leo, Leo, look up!”

 

He does, too relaxed to think about ignoring him. Neymar is smiling widely, Dani and Rafinha laughing next to him as Neymar proudly holds up a large sign for Leo to see.

 

 _Messi, give me you shirt!_ is written on the sign in bold letters.

 

Leo stops walking immediately, too stunned, and when Neymar starts waving the sign and actually yells _your shirt, your shirt, your shirt,_ he feels his face heat up. He feels eyes on him, and he knows all his teammates are looking at him. Gerard stopped a few feet before him and he's laughing his ass off.

 

Dani and Rafinha are laughing at Neymar's antics, and Leo doesn't want to be the only one embarrassed here. He takes off his shirt swiftly and throws it up in the stands. Neymar doesn't expect it, and the shirt hits him right in the face.

 

It slides off his face slowly, and Neymar looks shocked underneath, his mouth open and his eyes wide. His friends laugh louder, and Neymar blinks a few times before dropping his sign and taking the shirt, his lips stretching and an almost shy edge to his smile.

 

Leo ducks his head to smile too, his body still buzzing with the feeling of victory, and feeling elated by the fun and innocent exchange. He starts walking again, the smile not leaving his lips and Masche pokes his ribs, throwing him a reproachful look.

 

“Are you even trying?” he mutters.

 

Gerard is pretty unhelpful in the locker, poking fun at him and making jokes at his expanse. People ruffle his hair and laugh and then laugh at him some more. Someone says, _your boyfriend is cute_ , and the term is enough to draw him back to earth.

 

Neymar isn't his boyfriend, and he shouldn't be interacting with him like that, God he shouldn't.

 

Leo can find himself many excuses after all – Neymar looked too happy _(he always does)_ , there were people around _(everybody thinks they're together by now it's too late to keep it private)_ , he still isn't over Dani trusting him ( _he'll never be)_ , he didn't expect that _(he will never Neymar is wild and unpredictable),_ it was easier to just go along _(it's always easier Neymar is a fun guy and_ _it's easy being around him_ _),_ Leo was in too good a mood because of the match _(he can't treat Neymar nice when he's happy and rude when he isn't like he's taking his anger out on him)._

 

So many excuses but Leo knows he just needs to try harder. It would just be so easier if Neymar wasn't actually growing on him.

 

 

–

 

 

He's walking around campus when he sees her again. She's alone, typing away on her phone. She isn't looking ahead, she doesn't see him.

 

Antonella. With all that's happening around him, Leo barely thought about her again. He has enough guilt as it is, having to lead Neymar on, to think about how she might have felt, might feel, when she heard about him and Neymar.

 

He kinda misses her. They haven't talked in so long, and she is nice and smart, able to calm him down and reason him, but what's happening now is nothing he can talk to her about. He doesn't miss her as much as he'd thought, which he blames on his troubled mind – he doesn't have the time to think about much.

 

Still, he feels bad when he sees her here, alone outside. She is a great person and she deserves better than someone ignoring her the way he did.

 

He walks towards her, until he reaches her level.

 

“Anto,” he calls softly, and he regrets using the nickname immediately, but it falls naturally off his tongue.

 

Her thumb freezes mid-air, and she lifts her head slowly. She regards him calmly, her features schooled into a mask of impassivity.

 

“Leo.”

 

“Can I talk to you?”

 

She nods, and Leo takes her to a coffee shop nearby, calm and empty after the lunch rush hour.

 

“So,” she says, sitting perfectly straight in her seat, her hands crossed in front of her on the table. “You wanted to talk?”

 

“Actually, I wanted to apologize.”

 

“For?”

 

The answer to that should be obvious – for everything he's done in the past weeks that hurt her. But she knows that of course, and she wants him to say it out loud, maybe as a way to admit his wrongdoings to the world.

 

“For not answering your messages. For ignoring you, after that.”

 

“That? Oh, you mean after I confessed my feelings to you?” She's sarcastic, but her expression doesn't change. She leans forward. “Is that the only thing you're sorry about?”

 

Leo frowns, scratching the enamel off of his cup.

 

“And for-- Neymar. For not telling you, about Neymar.”

 

“And for leading me on,” she adds.

 

“I didn't---”

 

“You did. We flirted for months, you gave me several hints and I gave you as many. I took the first step because I knew you were too shy to do it. But apparently you weren't shy, just uninterested.”

 

“No, I was,” he rushes to correct her. She looks at him dubiously, pain obvious behind the coldness of her eyes. “I was, I swear I was. I did want, did plane to go out with you. That's what I wanted,” he adds quietly.

 

“Then why?” she sounds frustrated, and her facade breaks, her voice rising and her hands clenching and trembling on the table with frustration. “Why didn't you answer me? Why did you let me wait for hours for an answer that never came, only to see you hand in hand with another person I've never seen before in my life? And you two looked so comfortable with each other, it can't be anything recent. You must have liked him for a long time, so why did you let me believe you were interested, why did you lead me on, why did you-”

 

She stops herself, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. Her eyes are wet and she flicks her stare to the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling.

 

“Why did you play with me like that?” she finally asks, her voice broken.

 

This is heartbreaking, and this his all his fault. He wants to comfort her, but he doesn't think there's anything he can do to help, and he has no idea what to say. He just wants to apologize, at least, wants her to know it wasn't a joke.

 

“I'm sorry,” he says, and it feels so weak in his mouth. “I can't, I can't explain it to you but I swear I was serious. I swear it.”

 

“Great,” she says, the sarcastic tone back in her voice but she's still looking at the ceiling, avoiding his eyes.

 

Leo reaches out hesitantly, resting a hand on hers and she stills completely, but her hands tremble underneath his.

 

“I really am sorry for everything, Antonella.”

 

She swallows visibly. “Please leave. I don't want to cry in front of you.”

 

He nods, defeated, but he deserved that. That's his fault, all of this, and it's only fair that he bears the blame and suffers the brunt of it. He gets up, and tells her _goodbye_ , trying to make the word as heartfelt as an apology, as though it could be of any help.

 

He's at the door, opening it when he hears a thud, and then a sob.

 

His heart thunders away but he doesn't look back.

 

 

–

 

 

When he comes back to his dorm after meeting with Antonella, ignoring Neymar for three days straight is suddenly the easiest thing to do. He's not in the mood to deal with the happy-go-lucky boy, he only wants to lay on his bed and brood and reflect on how bad he fucked up.

 

Of course, Neymar can't take a hint, and he shows up a few days after to his football training.

 

He arrives towards the end, trying to be discreet, but everyone, from the coach to the players, notice him coming, hanging out by the stands. When Leo turns towards him, Neymar waves from afar, excitation rolling out of him in waves.

 

He's silent during the training itself, allowing the players to focus, which Leo finds surprisingly respectful of him – but then again, Neymar has never been disrespectful when he thinks about it, and there's no reason for Leo to be thinking like that.

 

Neymar, despite the way he tries to look, isn't a bad guy, and Leo has yet to find any mean fiber in him.

 

As soon as the training ends, Neymar comes down from the stands. One minute he was up there, focused on his phone, and the next the stands are empty. Leo frowns for a second, but by the time he has walked back to the door, Neymar appeared again, waiting by the alley for him.

 

Neymar walks towards him, a wide smile on his face and a snapback screwed backwards on his head.

 

Leo swipes his forehead. He's tired, sweating profusely, and he isn't in a mood to deal with Neymar. Nothing really feels right even since he saw Antonella.

 

“What are you doing here?” he says, unwelcoming.

 

Neymar doesn't seem to notice the tone.

 

“Waiting for you. I finished my class early, and I haven't seen you in days! I thought we could hang out a bit.” Neymar shrugs noncommittally, probably trying to look casual. Leo doubts he realizes his eyes give away how hopeful he is.

 

“I can't,” Leo answers, and he leaves it at that. He doesn't look at Neymar, his eyes drifting to the entrance door, where Gerard and Masche are waiting for him. Most of his teammates have went in already, only a few left on the field.

 

“Oh.” Neymar seems to hesitate before asking, “Why?”

 

“Because I'm tired and you're too high-maintenance.”

 

“High-mai-” Neymar repeats, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

 

“I _mean_ , that you're tiring, and I don't have the motivation to handle your right now.”

 

Neymar looks taken aback at first, and the he looks down quickly, a frown overtaking his features.

 

Leo doesn't know why being mean is so easy today. Maybe it's because he's exhausted, sweating after an hour-long training. Maybe it's because he keeps thinking about Antonella, teary-eyed and refusing to cry in front of him. Maybe it's because Neymar looks so blissfully happy to see him and Leo just wants Neymar to hate him already.

 

Neymar looks up, trying to cover up his pain. “I understand, you have to be tired after training so hard. You're really hardworking, aren't you?” He attempts a smile and it doesn't even look faked. “I can be quiet though,” and the hope is back in Neymar's eyes, “stay silent. Nap with you too – you like naps right? I mean, I can totally do that too, be very quiet and not disturb you, you wouldn't even realize I'm here, maybe we can cuddle too and--”

 

“No, no, Neymar,” Leo cuts him off. He just rebuffed Neymar rather unceremoniously, and he shouldn't still be this happy and eager. “It's not just training, it's always. You're _always_ high-maintenance, even when you don't move. I can't take you 24/7, I need a break from time to time, alright?”

 

Neymar doesn't say anything for several seconds. His eyes are wide, and he apparently didn't expect Leo to go down that road. A few of his teammates didn't leave the pitch yet and Leo feels their eyes on him, watching the scene. He looks Neymar in the eyes for once, wanting to see the anger in them, because surely there _has_ to be anger this time.

 

Instead, hurt flashes suddenly in Neymar's eyes as he processes his words, but as soon as it's there Neymar ducks his head to hide his face. “Oh, sorry. I didn't realize,” he mumbles, his voice the softest he's ever heard it.

 

Neymar's shoulders slump and he doesn't move, seemingly not knowing what to do with himself, inert like someone who just received a blow.

 

Leo still feels his teammate's eyes on his back, like prickles judging him, and judging Neymar too. Neymar makes a move to leave and Leo can't let him go like that. He can't let him leave like that, like an abused animal while his teammate are watching him. He can't let Neymar lose face while people are watching, probably judging him or pitying him. He can't let Neymar be humiliated like that publicly.

 

So he presses, harsher, to draw anger out of him.

 

“Just, don't come during trainings.” Leo's voice stops Neymar when he's about to turn, and Neymar looks up at him curiously, his eyes still pained. “It's embarrassing, alright?” Neymar frowns. “You know how I don't like broadcasting my sexuality, my private life, this kind of things?”

 

Neymar nods.

 

“Well look at you. Have you seen the way you behave? I mean, the way you dress fashionably is bad enough, but you can't be all up in my personal space and so eager to see me when I'm at training, it's just embarrassing for me.”

 

“W-what?” Neymar's eyes widen, and he looks utterly lost.

 

“I mean, you look _gay_. You're effeminate! The only way you could be more obvious would be if you held a _'I'm gay'_ sign. So much for anonymity, right,” Leo ends sarcastically.

 

Neymar startles back at the word effeminate, and he just stares at Leo, bewildered. He doesn't seem to be able to process what's just been said to him, shock and confusion written all over his features.

 

“I--” Neymar's eyes are filled with nothing but incomprehension as he closes and opens his mouth like a fish. He seems completely lost, trying and failing to articulate a sentence. “I don't--- I--”

 

Leo waits with bated breath for Neymar to explode. For Neymar to shout and yell and glare, and Leo's heart beats fast with anticipation, almost eager for the backslash.

 

There's a few seconds there, where feelings besides confusion take over Neymar's eyes, and there's nothing but pure unaltered sadness and _humiliation_.

 

“Sorry, I wasn't aware,” he says softly, his tone and posture showing nothing more than shame.

 

 _Shame_ , fucking _shame_.

 

“Sorry to have bothered you,” Neymar says, and he turns around to exit the pitch quickly, all trace of pride gone from him as he walks.

 

Leo watches Neymar walk away, his teammates's stares on his back, piercing his skin like prickles, and Leo wants to scratch himself all over to make the itch go.

 

He goes back to the locker room as quickly as he can, dodging Gerard's hand when it shoots up to ruffle his hair sympathetically. He goes straight to the bathroom, with no idea of what he's going to do. Once there he just opens the faucet and puts his head under the spray, hoping the cold water will somehow freeze his brain. His heart is beating fast and he doesn't think he's ever felt that dirty in his life.

 

He doesn't want to humiliate Neymar in front of people, he really doesn't want to, but he'd done it, he'd made it worse, he'd made it worse and he has been horrible, and he wants nothing more than for someone to come and knock him out cold.

 

His tongue is burning. It's burning in his mouth, ignited by all the ugly things he said, all the horrible words he spoke. He taste ashes and he wishes his tongue was actually on fire.

 

He hopes Neymar isn't crying.

 

_(How he wants to cry)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-o  
> I don't have much more to say. I consider this moment to be one of the two where Leo is the meanest (second one to come), but I'm biased so I may have overplayed that scene in my head. At any rate, next chapter will be Leo dealing with that situation he just created. It'll be less sad, normally.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so. Last chapter seemed to have more effects than I thought it would have? Ah well, some of you expressed their desire to fight Leo, but I'm afraid there will be no fighting of any kind. That said, this chapter is basically dedicated to dealing with what he did and then uh, nice things.

Leo fiddles with his phone, staring at his screen every few minutes.

 

Neymar hasn't texted him or talked to him in several days and Leo is afraid he'll crumble under the weight of his guilt.

 

“I want to apologize,” he mutters out loud, rubbing his face.

 

Masche scoffs. “No.”

 

“He hasn't said anything to me in days.”

 

“Well, that means he's angry, then.”

 

“No he isn't. I met him in the corridor. He didn't look angry, he just…looked sad.”

 

 _Or ashamed_ , Leo thinks, recalling the way Neymar averted his eyes and bowed his head, and Leo hadn't been able to move for a few seconds because of how crushing that sight was.

 

Masche doesn't answer so Leo turns to Gerard instead. “He dresses plainly and he seems…duller. He took what I told him to heart, and I think he's trying to change it.”

 

Gerard looks sympathetic. “It's weird though. Neymar didn't strike me as the type of guy to let peoplewalk all over him. I thought he was rather hot-headed.”

 

Leo snorts. “Yeah, definitely,” he says sarcastically, slouching back into the couch.

 

“No but really. At the beginning of the year, I saw him get into an argument with another dude. I don't know what was said, but they fought, and Neymar was pretty weak but he sure knew a whole lot of insults. He didn't strike me as someone who'd let others criticize him like that.”

 

“Are you sure you saw right?” Leo asks doubtfully. Neymar didn't have any fighting spiritat all _that_ day, and he has trouble imagining him getting into a fight.

 

Gerard nods. “Yeah for real. He seemed really annoying too – before the fight started, he licked the dude's face and then grinned at him. Actually I'm pretty sure that's what started the brawl in the first place.”

 

“Are you sure?” Leo shakes his head in denial. “He didn't even protest at all, he just-- stood there. Why wouldn't he fight _me_ too?”, he complains.

 

“Maybe because it's you?” Masche butts in. “You're not anybody. You're his boyfriend.”

 

“For four weeks! You can't fall that madly in love in such a short time. And even then, he…” Leo stops himself. He doesn't really want to think about it anymore, hasn't really processed that it had happened at all. “Dani threw me a weird look in the corridor too.”

 

“He did?” Masche frowns. “Did he say anything?”

 

Leo shakes his head. “No. He just seems curious, but I don't think Neymar told him anything. Why would he? He seems to believe it's perfectly normal for his boyfriend to throw homophobic remarks at him.”

 

 _This_ is what happened but it's the first time Leo voices it out loud and he can't help flinching, tensing for a moment before he manages to calm himself down. He's been tense for several days now, filled with guilt and anger – at himself and at Neymar, for not protesting. Leo wishes Neymar would have hit him.

 

He rubs his face again. “I need to apologize.”

 

“No,” Mascherano repeats. “You can't.”

 

“I can. I _should_.”

 

“No, Leo. _That_ is what you're supposed to. That's your plan!”

 

“That's not the plan!” Leo protests, and he's starting to be annoyed by Masche's refusal. “The plan is to make him hate me, not to depress him!”

 

The plan, if Leo remembers correctly, was actually to make Neymar break up with him, but it morphed into a pressing urge Leo has for Neymar to _hate_ him, like he should.

 

“If he grows to hate you, of course he'll be sad first. You really think you can spare him any type of pain when trying to make him break up with you?”

 

“It's--- it's not just pain there, it's shame. He's not supposed to feel shame, or to change for me.” Leo is growing agitated. “It's not the plan, not what I'm supposed to do. I need to make it up to him, I—-”

 

“No, Leo!” Masche's voice rises, and he seems to be irritated too. “You keep backtracking. That first date, instead of telling him you forgot – you backtracked. Then the day you saw Antonella and told him not to touch you – you backtracked. And now that. You're not going anywhere at this rate.”

 

“Of course I backtrack! None of these things should have happened like that. It's not how it's supposed to go.”

 

“Well face it Leo, this won't go like you want, and you'll need to be tough. You think you're being kind, backtracking like that? You think you're being nice, when you're mean one day and sweet the other? You're hot and cold to him – you give him hope then take it back and give it back again. I know you feel bad about Neymar, but you're being cruel when you try to salvage him every damn time.”

 

Leo doesn't know what to say for a while. He stares at Mascherano, breathing heavily, containing himself because he wants to protest, but he can't because Masche is right, of course he's always right. He heaves several deep breaths, angry and hurt. He gets up suddenly, and his phone slid off his lap. It falls on the floor, and Leo is reminded how it Neymar hasn't messaged him in days and he can't, he just can't.

 

“Not like that Masche,” he says, voice trembling. “Not like _that_.”

 

He walks out of the room, angry at Masche even though he knows he shouldn't be, but it's easier than being more angry at himself than he already is.

 

He enters the room again a few seconds later.

 

“It's my room, I can't storm out of it.” He nods to Masche, “you're the one who should be storming out.”

 

Masche is reclining coolly into the couch, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“I won't storm out,” he says calmly.

 

“Damn you,” Leo mutters, and he sits back next to him.

 

Mascherano pats his shoulder and he looks sad for him. Leo can't really hate him because he knows Masche cares, but he pretends to for a few seconds so he doesn't have to hate himself instead.

 

 

–

 

 

He goes to Neymar's dorm the very same day, when he knows all his classes are over. He walks quickly, not wanting to waste any time.

 

As he rounds the corner, he finds himself face to face with Dani, who, by the looks of it, is just coming back from Neymar's room.

 

They stare at each other for a few seconds, silent. He can't really tell what's on Dani's mind and he wonders if Neymar actually told Dani something worth his anger.

 

Dani speaks first. “Are you going to see Neymar?”

 

Leo nods, eyes riveted on him.

 

“He's quite upset right now.”

 

Leo nods again. He feels a bit nervous, a bit tense, but hopeful because really, Dani would never allow someone to mistreat Neymar like that would he? Maybe he'll rough Leo up a bit, maybe he'll spread nasty things about him, but certainly he'll tell Neymar to break up with him and Neymar would listen to him.

 

Or maybe he wouldn't and Leo is being delusional. And even if he did, that wouldn't discharge Leo from the need to apologize, and to make Neymar understand at all costs that Leo was in the wrong. He needs to see Neymar, whether Dani lets him or not.

 

“He won't tell me why he's so upset,” Dani says slowly, and Leo's shoulders sag. “But I've never seen him quite so… unconfident.”

 

Leo casts his eyes downward. Neymar didn't tell Dani anything, of course he didn't, why would he spread around words that humiliated him.

 

“That's my fault,” he mumbles. “I did a mistake.”

 

He glances up at Dani, who's listening to him attentively. Leo goes on.

 

“That's why I want to see him right now. I need to apologize.” He considers how much he should tell Dani, and finally just lets out what's on his mind. “I need to make him understand I was in the wrong before apologizing though.”

 

Dani hums. “Neymar is a bit naive, isn't he?”

 

Leo nods.

 

“Well go then.”

 

Leo's head snaps up and he stares incredulously at Dani. “Really?”

 

“Yeah really,” Dani answers, already making his way past him. “Neymar won't tell me anything anyway, so your words will be more effective than mine.”

 

Leo catches his arm to stop him. “But you're not mad at me? You don't want to know what happened? I fucked up; I really, really fucked up.” Leo finds himself a bit desperate to have Dani be mad at him, not to be able to walk around in impunity, adding to the guilt that's already weighing him down.

 

Dani frowns at that. “That much I could guess by myself. But Neymar won't tell me, so I'm not going to go behind his back. That's not what friends do.” He looks pensive for a few moments. “I'm not going to lie and say I'm happy right now. But we all do mistakes, it's good if you're able to recognize it and own up to them.”

 

“Still--” Leo protests, because he isn't owning up to his mistakes, not to the biggest of them all, which is why he's with Neymar in the first place, and Dani's so ironically wise that it's killing him.

 

Dani shakes his head. “Nope, nope. It's not my place to forgive you, your business is with Neymar. Do what you just said, make Neymar feel better, I'll be judging you on how happy is he after that.”

 

And then Dani smiles, and Leo wonders if maybe that's his way to punish him, to let him affront Neymar with nothing but his guilt as retaliation.

 

Dani even pats his back before leaving and Leo is starting to think that it might actually be.

 

 

–

 

 

When he knocks on Neymar's door, he only has a general idea of what he's going to say. There won't ever be anything that feels right anyway.

 

Neymar opens the door, and for a second, his lips starts stretching into a smile and Leo can see the enthusiastic _'Leo!'_ that's forming on his mouth, and then that second passes and Neymar sobers up, jolting as though struck by lightning and he averts his eyes immediately, a frown on his face instead of a smile.

 

“Can I come in?” Leo asks and Neymar immediately steps away, allowing him to enter.

 

Neymar fiddles with his own jeans, looking at anywhere but at him. He's dressed quite plainly by his standards, black on black and his shoulders slumped.

 

“Did you want something in particular?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you. I haven't seen you in days.”

 

Neymar doesn't answer, but Leo guesses it's not easy admitting you're too ashamed to show yourself.

 

“You're dressed quite plainly today,” he notes, provoking, and that gets a reaction out of Neymar. His eyes snap to his face and his brows furrow even more. He looks frustrated, some kind of sorrow painted on his face that he can't seem to get out.

 

“What am I supposed to wear then? How am I supposed to act?”, and there's an edge to his voice, something high-pitched that could easily be mistaken for anger, but all Leo hear is despair, an animal raising its shackles after being backed into a corner.

 

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. I'm sorry.”

 

It feels good, to say it. He's sorry for much more than he's apologizing for, but he can look Neymar in the eyes for once and apologize _(Masche said never to apologize, he said never to be nice)_. It's a relief.

 

Neymar looks confused. “I don't understand,” he says, but really Leo could have guessed that much.

 

“For what I said, the last time. I was tired and I took it out on you.”

 

Neymar shakes his head. “No but it's fine you know? If that's the way you feel, it's important that I know, right? If I want to do something about it I-”

 

“No, no!” Leo cuts him off hastily. “Don't do anything about it, alright? I didn't mean any of it. You don't have to change anything, you're fine as you are.”

 

Neymar frowns and shakes his head. “You don't need to do this, it's fine. It's important we tell each other everything you know, so if I embarrass you in public, I need to know it right?”, and Neymar stutters over the word _embarrass_ , as though it's the first time he admits out loud that he's an occasional embarrassment.

 

“No it's not, listen Neymar--” Neymar's self-depreciation troubles him and yet he should have expected it, and he rushes to say words he hasn't thought about yet. “I was wrong to tell you that, I shouldn't have—”

 

Neymar shakes his head again. “No you weren't, and since that's the way you feel I should--”

 

“You shouldn't anything!” Leo's voice rises and that cuts Neymar short. “I didn't think a word I said. I was on edge and I took my frustration out on you, which is _wrong_.”

 

Neymar doesn't protest this time, but he doesn't stop frowning either.

 

“I'm sorry,” Leo says again. “I was horrible to you and I'm trying to apologize, but for me to apologize you first need to understand I was wrong.”

 

He stops talking for a few moments, staring straight at Neymar and waiting for him to say it out loud. But Neymar stubbornly refuses to look at him, and his lips are sealed shut.

 

“Ney please. I need you to---” (No, it's not about him, it's not about him) “ _You_ need to do it. I was horrible to you Neymar. I acted like an asshole. What would you think if someone came to _me_ and told me I looked gay, insinuating it is somehow a bad thing? What would you tell me then?”

 

“You don't look gay,” Neymar mumbles, like a stubborn child.

 

“You don't either. There's no such thing as looking or acting gay. And even if there was it doesn't matter. Neymar listen-- you're not listening. Look at me.”

 

Neymar obeys the command, meeting his eyes defiantly, and Leo tries not to think about the fact Neymar is defiant because Leo wants him to say he's wrong and Neymar doesn't want him to be.

 

“You're perfect as you are,” Leo says softly.

 

Neymar blinks and his posture changes, taken by surprise by the sudden compliment.

 

“You're perfect just like that – you were just like that when I confessed to you, weren't you?” Leo doesn't stutter on the word _confessed_ , even though every time he remembers this damn day four weeks ago he feels nauseated. “I've purposefully said mean things to you because I was feeling bad and I wanted you to feel bad too. I'm an awful boyfriend, and I've hurt you, and I'm sorry for everything.”

 

Neymar stares at him, silently.

 

(There's Masche's voice ringing in his head.)

 

_(You're being cruel when you try to salvage him every damn time.)_

 

“Ney?”

 

“Ok.”

 

“Ok what?”

 

“You were wrong,” he mumbles, and Leo can see the way he winces when he says that. “I accept your apology,” Neymar says quickly after.

 

“You don't have to. You can wait before accepting it, or you can even never accept it.” Leo would rather he never accepted it.

 

Neymar considers him and then his mouth moves, silently reciting numbers. Leo frowns confusedly and when Neymar reaches ten, he talks again.

 

“I now accept your apology.”

 

“Neymar!”

 

“I waited!” Neymar protests, petulantly, like he just wants it to be over already, and he doesn't understand why Leo is more adamant about this than he is.

 

Leo frowns, unhappy, but Neymar is quick to resume talking. “Anyway, I do whatever I want. If I say I forgive you, then I forgive you.” And then he mumbles, seeming somehow shy, “And the 'you're perfect' bit was too much honestly.”

 

“Why would it be too much?”

 

Neymar shrugs. “You don't need to lie, I understand what you meant now, right?”

 

“I wasn't lying.”

 

It takes Leo by surprise, how quick he is to deny Neymar's accusation, how quick he is to reassure him that he does indeed think Neymar is perfect, as though he was actually thinking it, as though it wasn't all a lie.

 

Neymar seems a bit flustered, mumbling. “Nobody is perfect.”

 

Leo smiles. “You are, to me.”

 

_(You think you're being nice, when you're mean one day and sweet the other?)_

 

Neymar seems even more flustered, shaking his head in denial but Leo can see the shy smile at the corner of his lips, and he takes a moment to remember how tense the air was minutes ago. He can't blame Neymar for being too forgiving, so he blames himself for how Neymar is changing the topic and Leo lets himself play along.

 

Neymar walks up to him suddenly, surprising Leo when one minute he can look straight ahead and the next he needs to crane his neck up a bit to look at Neymar's face. Neymar catches his hands, pressing his palms against his cheeks.

 

“Look,” he commands.

 

Leo is confused. Neymar's skin is soft, except for little bumps under his palms, like valleys in a mountain landscape that Leo remembers as the acne scars on Neymar's face.

 

“What am I supposed to see?”

 

Neymar smiles widely, “Well, that's a flaw right?”

 

“What is?”

 

“That,” Neymar insists, pressing Leo's palms harder against his cheeks and Leo finally understands he's referring to the acne scars. He snorts.

 

“That's not a flaw. That's just cute.” Because really, it's more wonderful than anything else, that Neymar, childish and naive Neymar, would still bear the mark of his youth.

 

There's something awe-inducing in the feel of them, and Leo moves his hand a bit so he can rub his fingers against it. He isn't thinking much, looking at his own pale hands against Neymar's caramel skin, brushing his thumbs over the scars he can see and marveling at the one he feels without seeing.

 

Neymar is still holding his hands and his grip on them tightens.

 

“Really?” he asks, hesitantly, hopefully.

 

“Yes.” Leo frowns, trying to decipher the tone of Neymar's voice and the look in his eyes, and to understand why he would sound hopeful, of all things.

 

It becomes clear when Neymar smiles bashfully, ducking his head. “I don't like it a whole lot,” he admits.

 

He's referring to the scars on his face, and Leo contains a groan when he realizes just what _exac_ _t_ _ly_ is happening – that Neymar, moments after acknowledging Leo had been awful to him, moments after looking sad and depressed, is now offering even more of himself to Leo. That as casual as he tries to make this moment be, those absurdly cute scars on his cheeks are an actual concern of his, a _complex._ That he barely admitted that Leo did something wrong and already he's giving him more ammunition, as though he couldn't get it in his head that Leo could and would hurt him.

 

 _God damn it Neymar_ , is the only thought on Leo's head, because he never asked to be trusted that much.

 

Using that information to his advantage barely crosses his mind. There's no reason for it not to blow up in his face like the gay comments did, and at this very moment, when Neymar looks so pleased and relieved, being anything close to mean feels terribly wrong.

 

_(It always feels terribly wrong.)_

 

He'll find other ways to implement his plan, he'll think of other methods, but for now this feels like something special, and Leo can't will himself to do anything more than brush his thumbs against Neymar's skin over and over, and watch as Neymar melts under his fingers.

 

_(That feels right.)_

 

Neymar finally lets his hands go and they drop to his sides. Neymar still has that pleased smile on his face, and he hunches his back, sticking his face against Leo's chest and hugging him. Neymar isn't the tallest man around, but he's not tiny, and that doesn't feel like a very practical position.

 

“Cuddle me,” Neymar says, playfully.

 

Leo huffs, and he ignores the way his heart swell with fondness.

 

It's a ridiculous demand, and Leo's arms close around Neymar's frame despite himself, the need to make Neymar happy overpowering his reason.

 

“You're too big to hug me like that.”

 

Neymar ponders over this for a second, and then he switches their position, hugging Leo's neck instead and rising on his tiptoes to be able to rest his chin on his head. It seems to be a bit of a struggle, and Leo laughs as Neymar wobbles in his embrace, his laughter echoing against Neymar's chest. He bends his knees and hunches his back to accommodate Neymar, holding his waist tighter to try to keep him up but he still seems very unstable and Leo can't stop laughing.

 

(Y _ou give him hope then take it back and give it back again._ )

 

Ultimately, probably realizing his efforts are fruitless and Leo isn't taking this as seriously as he is, Neymar gives up with a sigh, and stares down discontentedly at Leo's smiling face. Leo stares back, but the smile won't leave his face, a mix of relief and mirth, and Neymar being too fun to resist.

 

“You're not very helpful.”

 

“You're the one who wants to cuddle.”

 

Neymar frowns deepens. “You don't want to cuddle me?”

 

Leo shakes his head, but there's still a smile plastered over his face and it refuses to leave.

 

“I don't need your consent to cuddle you anyway,” Neymar says spitefully, and he wraps his arms around his middle, lifting him up.

 

Neymar obviously didn't plan this enough, and he stumbles back, Leo wrapping his arms around Neymar's neck not to fall. The move seems to destabilize Neymar even more and he stumbles back again, hitting the end of his bed. He goes sprawling backwards on it, taking Leo in his fall.

 

His fall is cushioned by Neymar's nose and Neymar yelps, “Ow!”

 

He wriggles out from under him and Leo watches as he rubs his painful nose, throwing an unhappy look Leo's way.

 

“That was your own fault,” Leo deadpans in the face of Neymar's annoyance.

 

“You moved around too much!” Neymar protests.

 

“Well warn me before lifting me up and I won't move that much.”

 

“If I had warned you, you wouldn't have stayed there for me to lift. You'd have run away.

 

Leo smiles mysteriously and he doesn't answer. Neymar looks even more unhappy.

 

“You let your teammates carry you during matches though. You even jump on them sometimes!” he protests.

 

“That's different. It's the heat of the moment. They don't carry me out of the blue during classes or training.”

 

“Well I want to,” Neymar mutters, but his eyes seems considering. “Maybe I should sign up for the football club then, so I can jump on you, too.”

 

Leo giggles. He _giggles_ , and he can't really help himself. “I'll run away from you.”

 

“I run fast! Well, I used to.” Neymar wriggles up on the bed so he can be level with Leo's head. “I used to play football you know, up until middle school.”

 

“Why did you stop?”

 

“I moved from Brazil to Spain. I didn't know anyone and couldn't speak the language.” Neymar shrugs. “Football isn't very fun if I don't have friends to play it with.”

 

“But you do now, right? You could play again.” Leo doesn't know why he's suggesting that, he wouldn't be able to deal with seeing more of Neymar than he already is.

 

“But now I'm not as good as before. I play with some friends from time to time but it's not the same. Though,” Neymar looks smug and cheeky, “I do still know a lot of tricks.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

Neymar frowns at his tone. “You don't believe me? I do!” he sits up straight, looking stubbornly at Leo. “I still know enough tricks with a ball to be able to impress dudes and get into their pants.”

 

Leo stills, taken aback, and that makes Neymar grin victoriously.

 

“It's not a lie,” he says. He leans down into Leo's face. “I could show you, if you want, the way I juggle balls.”

 

Neymar almost whispers the words, seductive, his body shadowing Leo's frame, and Leo's first reaction is something akin to arousal, something that makes him hot under the collar and that makes him want to stare at Neymar's lips for hours on end.

 

His second reaction, when he actually processes Neymar's words and the pun hidden within, is to laugh. He bursts out laughing into Neymar's shocked face, and he laughs even louder when Neymar starts looking forlorn.

 

“Don't laugh, I'm serious!” He yells, and Leo has no doubt that Neymar is serious, which is something he both tries not to think about and something that makes him laugh harder.

 

He turns on his side, facing away from Neymar so he can't look at his hilariously disappointed face. Neymar whines some more behind him, shuffling on the bed until he's laying again, plastering himself over his back. Leo isn't sure why Neymar seems to think that if he whines and complains against him, Leo is more likely to listen.

 

What he's sure of though, is that once his laughter dies down, and the post-laughter contentment spreads thorough his body and makes him feel lax and rested, Neymar's warm body pressed against his back only works to relax him even more. He feels rested and tired at the same time, melting into the embrace. He thinks if he doesn't push Neymar away now, he'll fall asleep in his arms – he loves naps too much not to, and he hasn't been able to sleep correctly for the past week.

 

He really needs to move and shrug Neymar off now, he really needs to leave. He really needs to stop sharing any intimate moment with Neymar. He really needs to keep his mind from being lulled to sleep by the regular blowing of Neymar's breath against his skin. He really needs to stop being comforted by Neymar's presence when he doesn't have any right to feel the need for comfort in the first place.

 

He really needs to--

 

He really needs to sleep.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is. I know it's a bit weird to have the scene go from dramatic to romantic like that, but that seemed right. At any rate this is how I imagine Neymar going at this business. Also as you can see, the sole purpose of Dani in this fic is to make situations terribly ironic.  
> Anyway, next chapter will be uh, fluffy I guess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. This chapter is kind of a transition, I guess, but all the following scenes are quite necessary for me to further the story. Um, the tone of the story is by then perpetually sad, but I'd say this chapter is quite nice otherwise? The first scene, at least. Well I hope you'll enjoy it!

Leo curls on his side pensively. Were Geri there he would probably deem Leo to be sulking.

 

They lost a match, 3-0, and Leo wasted so many opportunities it isn't even funny (it's never funny when he loses). He doesn't recall a time where he'd been that distracted. He has always been able to forget everything when he plays, focus on the ball and on where he wants to take it.

 

He doesn't exactly know what went wrong. He thinks it's everything that's been happening recently – there had been Neymar in the stands again, wearing the jersey he'd asked for the last time. Neymar had been wearing _his_ shirt, one Leo had worn before, and that had evoked a feeling inside him that he doesn't want to name.

 

There is also Antonella, and the glimpses Leo caught of her, and the nasty looks Daniella throws his way whenever they cross path in the corridors.

 

There is also waking up from a nap some days before to Neymar's arms wrapped around his stomach, and feeling so damn good and rested even though he shouldn't be. There is the fact he keeps trying to make Neymar hate him but Neymar refuses to and he grows on him instead.

 

Someone knocks on the door but Leo ignores it. He doesn't want nor need to see anyone, and his friends should know better than to disturb him by then.

 

Gerard says he's overdramatic when upset, closing all the curtains of his room so he can brood in darkness. Gerard says he has mastered the art of sulking, and that even his little cousin's hissy fits aren't as childish as Leo's.

 

But Gerard saying these kind of things in the first place is the reason why he isn't allowed inside Leo's room when Leo is in one of these moods.

 

There's another knock, then some quietly loud voice Leo recognizes as Gerard trying to be discreet, and the door opens, a ray of light filtering in the room.

 

“Leo?” Gerard calls. “Neymar wants to see you.”

 

“No.”

 

“What was that? Yes? Good because he's already there.”

 

The door closes before Leo can protest, and Leo is highly aware that there is now another person inside the room.

 

He wonders what Gerard was thinking about. Why he thinks bringing Neymar in is a good idea. Leo can't tell whether he thinks this might Leo cheer up, although he doesn't see how that's possible since part of Leo's guilt is due to Neymar, or if he thinks Leo is in an appropriate mood to chase Neymar away. He remembers Geri saying Neymar would run away quite fast if he knew how bad Leo is at sulking, and Leo doesn't put it above him to actually work on that idea.

 

“Leo?” Neymar asks hesitantly, and Leo hears him pad into the room carefully. “Can I come in?”

 

“You're already in,” he mutters.

 

Neymar doesn't answer, and the steps come closer. Leo has no intention of talking, fully intent on making this awkward until Neymar gets fed up with his silence and goes away. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, least of all Neymar.

 

Yet instead of talking, the mattress dips and he hears Neymar shuffling close to him on the bed. Next thing he knows there is a weight pressed against his back, and a pair of arms sneaking around his torso.

 

Of course, Neymar would go and do the unexpected, and Leo tenses up considerably in his embrace. Neymar settles against him, moving so that he is as comfortable as possible. Leo wants to snap at him that now's not the time for that, but Neymar rubs his forehead between his shoulder-blades and curls around him, cuddling him for all intents and purposes, and Leo doesn't know what to do with that.

 

“What are you doing?” he mumbles once Neymar seems to be fully settled.

 

“Oh don't mind me, keep doing what you're doing.”

 

“I can't _not_ mind you like that.”

 

Neymar, instead of doing the rational thing of backing off at Leo's cutting tone, throws his left leg over his hip and wraps himself even more efficiently around his body, and Leo has to admit his anger is slowly dissipating to make way for confusion and helpless fondness.

 

“Neymar--”

 

“I was at the match you know,” Neymar whispers.

 

“Yeah I know,” Leo says under his breath.

 

“You were really great.”

 

And the frustration that was slowly slipping away comes back with full force, Leo tensing up again in Neymar's embrace – though he doesn't remember relaxing in the first place.

 

“Don't throw that shit to me. We lost, I wasn't great.”

 

“You were-”

 

“I _wasn't_.”

 

That keeps Neymar silent for a few seconds, and Leo has high hopes he will realize this is a lost cause and there are times in a man's life where he just gotta brood.

 

“Even if you lost, you were still the best player on this pitch.”

 

“I couldn't score.”

 

“Well, neither could your teammates.”

 

That ticks him off, and he turns around swiftly in Neymar's arms, Neymar startling at the sudden movement. Neymar positioned himself in the middle of his back, and Leo has to look down to stare at him, Neymar's sheepish and sincere eyes meeting his immediately.

 

“It's _my_ job to score, not _theirs_.”

 

Neymar stares at him quietly for a few seconds, before saying weakly, “…it's just a football match Leo, there will be others.”

 

“I don't care if it's just a match! I shouldn't have lost it. I was--- shitty and distracted.”

 

“Distracted? By what? We all have things on our minds sometimes, it's fine if you can't always be at your best.” Neymar grins lavishly and shuffles up on the bed to be level with his face. “Me, I found you amazing. I thought you were the greatest player on that pitch.”

 

“Ney--”

 

“And I got a semi when you dribbled past those three guys too,” he continues matter-of-factly.

 

“A sem-- _What_?”

 

Neymar always find a way to astonish him, but in the darkness he hopes Neymar can't see how flustered that makes him. Leo does see Neymar though, his curves and his shadow, and the daring whiteness of his teeth when he flashes a smile in the dark room.

 

“Idiot,” Leo whispers, reaching up to tug on Neymar's hair.

 

Neymar's hair is surprisingly soft considering he straightens it regularly. The long bangs feel like silk and when he lets his fingers slide further up, there are small curls at the base of his hair and then itchy shaved skin.

 

“You're biased, I'm not sure your opinion is valuable,” he says but he's already distracted from his anger by the way Neymar's hair feels under his fingertips.

 

“How dare you,” Neymar says with a full smile on. “My opinion is always valuable in any situation you could ever be in. If you have a choice between anyone's opinion and mine, I'm the safest bet. Actually, my opinion on Things was voted Most Valuable Opinion of 2015.”

 

Leo laughs out loud, pulling on Neymar's hair again to reward him for his idiocy, but he feels peaceful and rested, the frustration in his body slowly melting under Neymar's carefree and honest gaze.

 

Leo heaves a deep sigh, letting himself relax, figuring there's no reason to keep up the tenseness and the sulking when he already feels fine. He's distantly aware there's irony in this, in being comforted by the very thing that led him to be this frustrated in the first place, but he tries not to think about it, tries not think about how he's starting to like Neymar because that would be the most ironic twist of fate and Leo doesn't want to have anything to do with it.

 

He lets his fingers run over Neymar's scalp, caressing the hair, the curls, the shaved skin and the hairless nape, petting Neymar's head like he'd pet an animal. Neymar doesn't seem to mind, laying motionless next to him, silent but for his eyes that stare at Leo with love and care and affection.

 

Leo's heart tighten with guilt and he closes his eyes – he should know better than to look into Neymar's eyes by now.

 

They snap open soon enough when muffled giggles fill the room. Neymar stops laughing when Leo looks at him, biting his lips to keep his laughter in.

 

“What's so funny?”

 

“Nothing,” Neymar lies blatantly. Under Leo's stern stare, he giggles again. “I never thought _you_ would be the type to sulk.”

 

 _S_ _ulk_ – Leo wonders whether Geri talked to Neymar before, or if Neymar came to this word on his own.

 

“I don't sulk,” he says, aware that he does but nobody will force him to say it out loud.

 

“It's fine! But a few weeks ago, I would have never guessed this was how you dealt with adversity. Nor would I have guessed it was so easy to make you blush, or that you were tight on small topic like cleanness or hot chocolate. Or that hot chocolate made you gooey for that matter.”

 

“Hot chocolate doesn't make me gooey,” Leo says, though he does like the beverage, and he feels weirdly flustered by Neymar's laughter. “Basically a few weeks ago, you thought I was mature and responsible and I am not.”

 

“No!” Neymar is quick to protest, but then he seems to think better of it and amends. “That's not what I said, but I might have thought it. I still think it but, you're a bit more childish than I thought.”

 

Leo isn't sure how he's supposed to take that. He thinks he's about to be hurt, for the most ridiculous reason, because while he wants Neymar to hate him for who he pretends to be, this is really him and he feels unreasonably hurt at the thought Neymar might not like that part of him.

 

It's irrational, unreasonable, illogical, but Leo feels upset again and he wants to sulk, away from Neymar.

 

“It's fine though,” Neymar says after a while. “I like you like that. That makes you more real.” And then he grins, shuffling closer until their noses are almost touching. “I think it's cute.”

 

Leo doesn't know whether it's the mood or Neymar or if he completely sucks at comebacks, but he has to keep himself from biting back _you're the cute on_ e and even if he doesn't say it out loud the mere fact he thought it mortifies him.

 

It seems natural for Neymar to lean in and press their lips softly together after that and Leo's mouth is immediately filled with bubble gum. The artificial taste is sweet on the tip of Neymar's tongue, warm and soft like velvet as it pries open Leo's lips.

 

 _This_ , this is the kind of intimacy Leo should be running from.

 

He lifts his hands and puts them on Neymar's shoulders, holding them tight so he can push him away firmly.

 

He applies pressure and how easy it would be, how easy it would be to let Neymar's tongue in and to kiss him back. How easy it would be to kiss Neymar breathless, hold him tighter and so close that the only thing he would breath anymore are the hot puffs of bubble-gum scented breath. He would grip Neymar's hair, thread his fingers in the long bangs and curls his little fingers around the small curls, and Neymar would let him to control the kiss, his hands fluttering on Leo's back, brushing without daring to touch.

 

Leo's heart would be pounding away in his ribcage, his heartbeat thrumming everywhere from his toes to his skull, head throbbing as he kisses and kisses until he has no air left, and Neymar's heart would echo just right against his. Neymar would make noises into the kiss, soft and quiet sounds, sighs or moans muffled by their joined lips and Leo would drink them eagerly.

 

Leo would forget everything as he gives in to Neymar's luscious lips and breathy moans, his eyes parting open from time to time just so he can look at his face, ethereally gorgeous in the dark room, a dream or an incubus, and Leo would feel hot, so hot all over, his cock hardening before he even notices it is arousal that is making him hold onto Neymar tighter.

 

Arousal too, the feeling that would have Neymar move against him, slow motions, rubbing against Leo's hips and Leo would feel content and pleased to have Neymar react as strongly as him. He would push Neymar onto his back, so he could look down on him and have him under him, so he could witness the helplessness on Neymar's face as he lets himself go and gives Leo the reign, giving him the leeway to bring them both to completion.

 

He would stare and drink in the sight of Neymar's lustful eyes, he would eagerly listen to every moans before leaning down and kissing those pink lips again lest he grew cold of their absence, and when he'd ground down a bit too hard, worked up by Neymar's unrestrained reactions, Neymar would moan loud and high enough that he'd hear it clear as day despite the kiss, and it would echo in the room like music and Leo would never have heard anything so sweet before, he would never have felt so quietly aroused before, and he would never have wished he could have so intensely before, and how easy it would be to have and how he wished he could have, if only he'd kissed deeper instead of pushing Neymar away, if only he'd given in, he should have given in--

 

Something nibbles his lips, softly and nicely, teasingly and Leo's eyes snap open, and Neymar stares up at him with open eyes and the most lascivious smile on his face, lying under him and hard against his hipbone, and Leo panics for a moment because Neymar is there and he thought he had pushed him away, but this isn't a dream – Neymar is there and he shouldn't be.

 

Neymar tilts his head when he stops moving and he reaches for his face, looking confused, whispering his name like a question. He's pretty sure Neymar can feel his arousal as clearly as he feels his, and Leo doesn't remember why he wanted to push Neymar away. He looks so soft and pliant under him, so frail and fragile and Leo wants to give him anything he asks for.

 

Neymar is there, as vulnerable as he's ever been, and Leo is scared of letting him go. He tries to search his mind but he doesn't remember, he just doesn't remember any of the reasons he had to push Neymar away, not now when he's so open that leaving him would feel like the cruelest of acts. And when Neymar starts frowning at his stillness, when he starts looking confused, Leo surges down again, kissing Neymar because he doesn't have anything more important to do. He feels like he shouldn't, like he's crossing the line but he doesn't understand why. Abandoning Neymar to his lust feels like a crime, an awful sin he would never be able to redeem, and Leo doesn't want to be that kind of criminal.

 

He doesn't remember why he can't when Neymar's eyes keep telling him he should.

 

 

–

 

 

It's only later, when Neymar is asleep next to him and his underwear is dirty that he remembers that he really _really_ shouldn't.

 

This is bad enough having to make Neymar hate him, but this, _lust_ (because it cannot be more than that), complicates everything, and he's getting deeper in a relationship he shouldn't even be into in the first place. Lust will make everything harder and he shouldn't desire Neymar, not even for a moment. Neymar might give but Leo isn't supposed to take **.**

 

He doesn't want to abuse Neymar's kindness and when he ends up making Neymar hate him, when he finally reaches his goal, he doesn't want Neymar to look back and thinks Leo used him for anything. He'd let himself go this one time, he'd completely lost his mind, overwhelmed by feelings and sensations so intense he doesn't think he ever felt like this before. But he needs to do better from now on, needs to keep his mind inside his head, needs to stay focused.

 

He can't allow himself to fall for Neymar's looks. And he really, really needs to hurry up with this plan before he gets into this deeper than he ever intended, before Neymar grows on him and it gets increasingly harder to hurt him.

 

(If he was less of a coward Leo would admit to himself that it's already too late, he's already in deeper that he ever intended)

 

 

–

 

 

Leo still hasn't found a better way to deal with Neymar than avoidance, and it's still useless every time. On Saturday night, as he planes on doing nothing at all, Neymar and his two friends come to his room and whisk him away on an impromptu outing.

 

They come when Leo is dozing off on his couch, and he feels too slow and drowsy to have the presence of mind to rebuke Neymar.

 

And so instead of his quiet lazy evening, Leo finds himself in what seems to be a karaoke club, and Leo doesn't particularly like singing. At the very least, he doesn't have to fake being grumpy, but even that feeling doesn't last long, his mood switching from unhappy to cheerful without Leo trying to. Leo blames the change on Neymar.

 

Neymar looks quite fond of the place, several people greet him and his friends and Leo guesses they come here often.

 

For a while, Leo is content to just sit and watch the three friends sing. They seemingly do not care that they look utterly ridiculous, and Leo finds himself laughing at their performance. People are whooping and cheering for them and Neymar throws him blinding smile from time to time, which Leo returns without thinking about it.

 

He should probably have expected it when Neymar tries to drag him on the stage. Leo holds onto his seat, frowning as hard as he can to chase Neymar away, but that only makes him laugh, and with shit-eating grins on their face, both Dani and Rafinha manhandle him off the couch and into Neymar's waiting arms. He can feel everyone's eyes on them and he thinks maybe going willingly would have been less embarrassing.

 

Neymar doesn't let him pick the song and Leo is mortified, trying to inconspicuously retreat behind Neymar's back. It's a bit difficult considering Neymar's eyes keep searching for his, as though singing for him, but it's a song about asses and Leo would die sooner that he'd let Neymar dedicate those lyrics to him.

 

Leo miraculously escapes from having to sing a love duet with Neymar.

 

There's a part of his brain that keeps nagging at him, and that part of his brain sounds a lot like Mascherano, going on and on about how he's being as asshole and he's supposed to act like one but Leo tries to turn it off. Neymar's friends are there and that's not really an excuse, but he enjoys watching Neymar sing, off and awful but Neymar doesn't care, dancing and smiling as though he is the best singer ever, and Leo can only admire his confidence.

 

(He wonders where that confidence goes every time he hurts Neymar and Neymar apologizes.)

 

Neymar sits down next to him, sweaty and buzzing with energy.

 

“Are you having fun?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Dani says you might not like this whole thing too much. Do you want to leave?” he asks hesitantly.

 

“No,” Leo says, and berates himself for not saying yes. “I'm having fun.”

 

Neymar throws him a blinding smile, flashing his teeth and looking as relieved as a man can be.

 

At some point during the night, a man offers Neymar a drink, that Neymar politely refuses with a smile. Leo glares. He can't really help it – before he can think about it, he's glaring daggers into the man's face until he notices him. _I thought you were alone_ , he says to Neymar and apologizes. Leo feels tense and grumpy.

 

It shouldn't be a surprise though – Neymar catches everyone's attention, he shines bright, and Leo knows Neymar is, as a matter of fact, completely out of his league. Leo is nothing but awkward edges, a small man with deft feet and too few words, whereas even Neymar's flaws seem to be decoys made to perfect him.

 

He shouldn't feel as grumpy about that as he is – this isn't real after all, he isn't actually going out with Neymar nor does he _(should he)_ wish to, and it doesn't make sense to be that worked up over the idea. It doesn't make sense, but he still finds himself glaring at that man every time he sees him.

 

When the night ends, Dani drives them all back to the dorm. He doesn't live here, apparently sharing a flat not far from campus with several other guys. Rafinha smiles at him and Neymar knowingly before hurrying away, letting Neymar walk Leo back to his room.

 

In front of Leo's door, Neymar stands awkwardly, and Leo guesses he wants to be invited in.

 

“Good night, Ney,” he says instead.

 

He can't invite Neymar in. He's scared he would let himself go and he can't afford to get lost in Neymar again.

 

“Yeah, I hope you had fun,” Neymar smiles pleasantly.

 

It feels easier now, away from Neymar's friends, and that's the time Leo chooses to remember having fun is against everything he should be doing.

 

“Not really.”

 

His answer takes Neymar by surprise and he visibly deflates.

 

“You… didn't?”

 

“It's not my thing. I hate singing in public, wasn't that obvious?”

 

Leo's tone is getting increasingly biting, and Neymar starts fidgeting.

 

“Well you were a bit grumpy, but you seemed to be having fun. And I asked you and you said you were.” Neymar frowns confusedly.

 

And Mascherano's voice is there again, telling him he's being cruel, a broken record inside Leo's head that keeps repeating _hot and cold hot and cold_. Leo tells himself this is better like that, Neymar gets to have fun and Leo's only scathing from time to time, but that feels weak even in his mind. He's ruining memories for Neymar by being an asshole only when it's easy to be, and the thought makes him angry at himself again.

 

“Fun? Neymar you ridiculed ourselves. Neither of us know how to sing, so why even _bother_? I lied to you, isn't that obvious?”

 

Neymar doesn't say anything for a second, staring at him shocked and speechless.

 

“I didn't realize,” he mumbles. He licks his lips nervously, and a sad smile forms on his lips, making Leo frown. “You lied to make me feel better? That's so considerate of you. You're so nice to me,” Neymar says, dejected and genuine as he stares into Leo's eyes.

 

And Leo wants--- he wants to throw up, or punch the wall, or close his eyes. _Nice_ , when he's being the most selfish and cowardly person on earth. _Nice_ , to Neymar of all people, and then Neymar bends down and presses a chaste kiss to his lips before leaving, walking uncharacteristically slow and nice, Leo is _nice_.

 

What does he need to do, what does need to say for Neymar to hate him, to absolutely despise him, to abhor everything about him? Leo's almost shaking when he finally enters his room, and he can't find sleep, his mind tormented by guilt and anger and frustration.

 

He's trying, badly but he's trying, but how can he be expected to hurt Neymar when Neymar just _let_ him?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo is thus officially in lust with Neymar. Well, certainly there's more to it than lust but ah, feelings.  
> Anyway, it felt like a waste of romance to end this chapter like that but, worse happened. Actually worse will happen, and that is where I talk about the next chapter : nice things will happen, but also less nice things (by which I mean, if some of you remembers, that it will feature one of the moment where Leo manages to be the rudest to Neymar).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I should have posted that an hour ago but my laptop crashed while I was proofreading. Also--- I said Leo would be quite mean in that one, and now I think people expect something completely horrible. I may have overhyped it? Well at any rate, this chapter follows a similar form to the last one - nice in the beginning, not nice in the end. So basically, please enjoy the beginning.

“I don't understand your fashion taste,” Leo says, looking Neymar up and down doubtfully.

 

It's a few minutes past noon and Leo is still too sleepy to handle Neymar's flashy yellow shorts, and the black shirt Leo is almost certain displays a naked girl.

 

Neymar huffs. “Of course you don't. Dani is the only one who understands me.”

 

Leo got up ten minutes ago, and he barely had the time to pee before someone knocked on his door – Neymar, with a wide grin on his face that felt brighter than the sunlight Leo had just let in. Leo is taking time to process those events, slouched in his couch, dressed casually in sweatpants. He watches sleepily as Neymar moves around his room, opening drawers.

 

“What are you doing?” he mumbles.

 

“Looking at your clothes,” Neymar answers. “I feel bad for ruining your night yesterday, at the karaoke.”

 

Leo opens his mouth, the sudden urge to apologize overtaking him but Neymar turns to him smiling.

 

“So! Today I'm taking you out for lunch. You like that, eating, right?”

 

“Uh, yes of course but--”

 

“Great! My sister wants a picture of you too so maybe you should wear something besides a hoodie, which is why,” Neymar goes to his closet and opens it wide, “I'm going to dress you.”

 

“Please no,” Leo mutters, and Neymar burst out laughing, grinning at him devilishly **.**

 

“What, do you have an issue with the way I dress?”

 

“Of course I do,” Leo frowns. “It's awful.”

 

He suddenly remembers saying bad thing about Neymar's looks a few weeks ago and he instantly regrets his words, but Neymar doesn't seem ruffled by his remark. For once he's thankful about Neymar's naivety, because that one really wasn't meant to be anything but banter.

 

Neymar looks at his closet and starts throwing clothes on his bed.

 

“Hey!”

 

“How many replicas of the same shirt do you have?” he asks, referring to a long-sleeved shirt he has in at least four different colors.

 

“If I like it I might as well buy several,” Leo mutters, uncomfortable when his own fashion choices get criticized. “Does it matter that much?”

 

“Well you're the one who's obsessed with on the way I dress. But actually I have a theory about that.” Neymar turns to him again, a glint in his eyes – mischief – and Leo has a bad feeling about this.

 

“A theory?”

 

“About why you're so focused on the way I dress.”

 

“Because it's flashy and that's the only thing I see?”

 

Neymar shakes his head. “No I mean, the subconscious reason, the one deep inside.”

 

“…because it's flashy and that's the only thing I see?”

 

Neymar flashes an amused smile but he shakes head. He walks towards him, deliberately slow, and Leo has to the distinct impression he's trying to sashay.

 

“I can't help it if I don't like the way you dress. I'm not telling you to change it,” he adds quickly, “But you can't ask me to like it.”

 

Neymar hums. His eyes spell trouble and Leo doesn't like the fact he can't tell what Neymar is thinking about.

 

“I think,” Neymar articulates slowly, “that you're so focused on my clothes because you'd rather I didn't wear any.”

 

Leo takes some time second to process that. “…what?”

 

Neymar smiles deviously and leans down, bending until he's into his personal space. “If you want me to wear less clothes you only need to ask, Leo,” he says, almost singing his name.

 

“I don't--” Neymar is too close for comfort and Leo finds himself fighting against his mind, which is diligently trying to provide him with visual images of Neymar with less clothes on. “That's what you wish, I just want you to dress better, because your outfit today is awful. I don't--”

 

He cuts himself short to stare, disbelieving, as Neymar starts undressing, taking off his snapback, his shirt and then his socks, shoes and shorts, until he's left in nothing but black boxer briefs. Leo sits up straight, words failing him.

 

Neymar is still smiling, playful and seductive like the Cheshire Cat, and there's the same singing tone in his voice when he says, “Is it better now?”

 

“ _Neymar_ ,” Leo hisses because this, this is dangerous ground.

 

“ _Leo_ ,” Neymar purrs.

 

Neymar walks the few steps that separate him from the couch. He puts his hands on Leo's shoulders, and, taking advantage of Leo's complete stillness, he slowly slots his knees next to his thighs, effectively straddling him.

 

Leo quickly looks up at his face because surely, that's better than staring at his body. Except Neymar is looking down at him, strands of hair shading his eyes but not hiding them, and his eyes are soft, loving and needy. Neymar's body is shadowing his, too close and the only thing he can smell is bubble gum. Neymar's eyes are boring into his and they look darker than usual, intent but open like a book, devoid of secrets.

 

Neymar traces soothing circles on his collarbone and it makes Leo shiver.

 

“Is it better now?” Neymar repeats, and he leans down, slowly, until his lips meet his and Leo's too tense, too caught in the act of restraining himself to push Neymar away when he kisses him.

 

Neymar still tastes like bubble-gum, and his fingers slide up until they can caress the line of his jaw, pressing against the sides of his head, soft reverent movements that betray Neymar's affection.

 

Neymar is trying to coax his mouth open, licking his lips a bit but Leo holds on, clenching his fists and forcing them to lay uselessly on the couch. This is dangerous, incredibly dangerous, and he puts all his mind into not kissing back, clenching his jaw tight enough that his teeth hurt.

 

“Leo,” Neymar whines. “You're not being very fun right now.”

 

Neymar draws back to pout at him unhappily.

 

“Yeah that's me,” Leo says breathlessly, “not a fun person.”

 

Neymar laughs, his eyes becoming slits when he smiles.

 

“Come on Leo, I made effort for that.”

 

Leo looks at him puzzled, still stubbornly not looking down, and Neymar smiles cheekily. He takes both his fists and gently opens them before plastering Leo's hands on his thighs. Leo is so tense that they clench again immediately, grabbing almost harshly onto Neymar's flesh.

 

“Feel that? I shaved so it would be smooth.”

 

“Smooth?” Leo feels slow, often does around Neymar but it's even worse now, with Neymar's scent all over him and his naked body inches away from his.

 

“Yeah look.” Neymar holds his hands and drags them down and back up, letting them slide on his thighs. He didn't lie, the skin is smooth under his palms, the skin so soft it feels like it's caressing him and not the other way around.

 

Leo looks down, startled at the sensation, because nobody is naturally hairless. It's an impulse he can't help but that he regrets immediately. Neymar's legs are as smooth as he claims, his thighs muscled, although thin, a brown as soft as caramel and Leo's hand are so pale against them he wonders if he's dying. His heart keeps skipping beats and he dramatically thinks that he may be dying.

 

There's also the black boxer briefs, concealing just that bit of Neymar, enough to elicit a lustful curiosity inside him, the desire to take everything off. Neymar's hand are still on his, but they aren't guiding his anymore, and Leo belatedly realizes he's caressing Neymar on his own. He doesn't have the time to dwell on that though, because Neymar's wrists are so thin, so delicate, his arms so skinny. Neymar's stomach is flat and defined, and his nipples are dark and hard because of the cold air, or because of his touch, he cannot tell. Neymar is skinny, and despite Leo being smaller than him he still feels like he could break him in half, and there's a fierce urge to protect that's growing in his belly.

 

When he looks up again, Neymar's eyes are hazy, lust filling them and this is dangerous, _this i_ _s_ _dangerous._

 

“Why would you even shave your legs?” He hastily blurts out the first non-sexual topic on his mind.

 

“You do too.”

 

“For football, otherwise falling hurts.”

 

“Well, I like when it's smooth”, Neymar defends himself. “Don't you?” he smiles, and it's a bit hard saying no when his hands are still mechanically rubbing his skin, and when Neymar sits right on his lap, so close to his crotch he can't not be aware of the effects this whole thing has on Leo.

 

It's way, way too dangerous, and Leo needs to stop now before he gets drunk on bubble-gum. He closes his eyes and presses his face against Neymar's shoulder, and albeit Neymar's skin is still too soft and his scent too sweet, he can't see and that's progress, at least.

 

“You can't do that Ney. You just can't,” he whispers, his voice strangled.

 

“Why not?” Neymar sounds confused, his hands reaching up to scrap his scalp gently.

 

“It's hard to control myself if you do that."

 

“That's the point. I don't want you to control yourself.”

 

Neymar starts grinding down, ignoring Leo's warning growl. Leo has no choice but to flip him over, laying Neymar out on the couch and draping himself over him, blocking all his movements with his weight. Neymar yelps, and wriggles around when he realizes Leo is trying to keep him still, but Leo doesn't budge. He keeps his face against Neymar's shoulder, breathing heavily, his cock hard in his pants and his brain melting in his skull.

 

Neymar protests at first but when he realizes Leo is determined not to move he gives up, relaxing under him and slipping a hand in his hair, playing with random strands.

 

“You're going to be the death of me,” Leo finally mumbles against Neymar's skin, and Neymar laughs softly.

 

“Please don't die, I don't want to fuck your dead body.”

 

Leo grimaces at the thought and Neymar laughs again, proud of himself. Leo turns his head a bit, ever so slightly so he can press his nose flat against Neymar's neck. It's impossible to calm down with Neymar's naked body underneath him anyway, so he figures he might as well suffer as much as he can, works his nerves up as much as possible, until he bursts from how overwhelming this all is.

 

Neymar gets bored of the silence after a few minutes, and he starts talking about one thing or another, chatting away all on his own. He's loud and obnoxious, and that should help Leo calm down but it doesn't.

 

Instead, Neymar says he's getting cold and Leo holds him tighter.

 

 

–

 

 

Leo is playing Mario Kart furiously, actively trying not to think about how he's about to stand Neymar up, again.

 

Sometimes during the hour it took for his heart to stop racing and for him bubble-gum intoxicated mind to stop melting, Neymar had managed to coax promises out of him, notably that he'd be there to dine with his sister the following week.

 

From what he knows, Neymar's sister is still in high-school, and she's coming to town for the week end. Neymar has been increasingly excited as the week went on and it is nearly impossible for Leo to forget he'd promised him this dinner. Neymar said he wants him to meet his sister, and that he wants his sister to meet him, too.

 

Leo blames bubble-gum for how quick he was to say yes.

 

And now it's Friday and they're supposed to meet in 10 minutes and Leo has no intention of going. He can see it happening exactly like those times he hung out with Neymar's friends – nothing but fun and that's not consistent with any of the things he should be doing.

 

His phone buzzes, of course, a few minutes before the given time.

 

 _Are you ready yet?_ reads the message from Neymar, followed by a stream of enthusiastic emojis and a few hearts thrown in for good measure.

 

 _No_ , Leo sends back.

 

_Hurry up! I'm hungry, don't make me wait._

 

Leo takes a deep breath before typing, _well then don't wait for me because I'm not going._

 

 _What do you mean?_ , comes the instant reply.

 

_I don't want to come anymore._

 

It's easier like that, texting, not having to see Neymar's crest-fallen face as he rejects him again. Which is why, when his phone rings and a ridiculous picture of Neymar posing appears on his screen, Leo doesn't know what to do.

 

Neymar is calling him, and somehow he hadn't thought that this was something that could happen. He has the urge to ignore the call and pretend he lost his phone in the span of a minute.

 

Instead he takes a deep breath and answers his phone.

 

“Hm”, he says as a form of acknowledgment.

 

“Are you sick?” Neymar asks immediately and _oh Neymar_ , already trying to find him excuses.

 

“No.”

 

“...why?” Neymar sounds confused, disappointment not clear yet in his voice but Leo can hear its undertone.

 

“Because I don't want to. I'm tired and I don't feel like going out right now.”

 

“But my sister is only there for the week-end.”

 

“That's not my problem. And you're going so fast anyway. I mean honestly, you want to introduce me to your family? Don't I get a say in this?”

 

“It's not my family, it's...my sister.” Neymar trails off, the vindictiveness of his voice dying down. There's silence for a few seconds, and Leo finds it a bit sad that he expects Neymar to sound dejected after that. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was bothering you. That's something I do sometimes, I get ahead of myself and rush things, and I didn't think of how you might feel and I'm sorry.”

 

Neymar talks quickly and softly, the tone of someone making an apology, and Leo can see him, looking like a sad, rejected puppy. He closes his eyes to make the image disappear but it doesn't go away.

 

“I, uh, I'll tell my sister you were sick then.”

 

Leo keeps his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few seconds. He tries to think of Mascherano – he said not to backtrack, not to give Neymar hope, not to be cruel.

 

“I'm sorry Leo. I hope you're not mad at me.”

 

He sounds sad and disappointed and sincere, apologizing as though Leo hadn't been terribly rude to him.

 

Leo sighs. He gives up.

 

“Wait Neymar,” he calls when Neymar is about to hang up. “Wait for me ok? I'll be right there.”

 

“No it's fine! I don't want you to feel forced or---”

 

“I don't. I don't ok? I'm just being an ass, but I'll be happy to meet your sister. I'll be there as quick as I can, order drinks without me.”

 

He hangs up before Neymar has the time to talk any more than that.

 

And Leo did it again. He'd went back on his words, acted like an ass for nothing. He thinks if he doesn't talk about it to Masche, it will somehow make it ok.

 

(it doesn't) 

 

 

–

 

 

He runs there, but he manages to make it to the restaurant in 15 minutes. He feels hot and truly tired now, but when Neymar sees him he literally beams at him, his whole face lighting up.

 

The restaurant is rather cheap, quick meals and Leo knows some of them aren't worth their price, but it's near college and when you know what to order it's pretty decent.

 

Neymar's sister is pretty and she looks as young as him – or maybe as old as him. She smiles nicely when he reaches their table.

 

“Rafaella,” she drawls her name out.

 

“I'm Leo. Uh, Neymar's--”

 

“Boyfriend right, I think I'd know that at least!” she mocks him and it's welcoming, but it's not enough to make Leo feel at ease.

 

Leo dreads this meting and he doesn't know why. Maybe because it's going to end up like all other outings – he'll spend a nice time with Neymar and he shouldn't. Or maybe because he doesn't know her and it might be awkward.

 

There's a part of him that dreads this meeting because it wants Neymar's sister to like him, it wants to make a good impression on her, but that part doesn't make sense and Leo tries to ignore it.

 

Neymar sits next to him on the table and Rafaella sits in front of the both of them. Neymar calls her _Rafa_ with fondness, and he laughs loudly with her. Rafaella asks Leo questions, lots of them, and asks to take pictures to send to her mom. Leo doesn't want to but Neymar nudges him until Leo relents, smiling awkwardly at the camera while Neymar laughs openly at his discomfort.

 

It doesn't start too bad. Leo still feels on edge, somehow scared of making a mistake, and when Rafaella excuses herself to the bathroom, he finds himself relaxing, slouching deeper into his seat and letting out a sigh of relief.

 

Neymar giggles softly and pats his thigh sympathetically, letting his hand rest there afterward, light and skinny but heavy on Leo's thigh.

 

“Don't force yourself, I swear she won't judge you if you're not as talkative as us” and then he laughs some more.

 

Leo grunts in answer, content to just slouch into his chair after half an hour of sitting straight and staying alert. He has no idea why he's trying so hard to impress Neymar's sister, and this is just plain ridiculous.

 

Neymar is scrolling through his own phone, absentmindedly sending texts and Leo can see the name of the receiver over his shoulders : _Princesa_ , it says.

 

Leo frowns. “You're sending texts to your sister while she's in the toilets?” He prepares to give Neymar a speech as to why there are limits to over-protectiveness but Neymar laughs loudly before he has the time to.

 

“No no! That's Rafa. Rafinha. It's his name in my phone.”

 

“Oh,” Leo replies, and he'd rather not ask. But he is reminded that Neymar does call his friend Rafa too, and he feels preemptively confused by all the times he'll have to decide whether Neymar is referring to his sister or his male friend.

 

“Two Rafas, it's going be confusing,” he complains out loud.

 

Neymar laughs again, easily – he's been laughing all night, excited and thrilled to be there.

 

Rafaella comes back and Leo takes Neymar's advice, trying less hard and he's content to listen to Neymar and Rafaella swap stories about their parents and their hometown, sometimes fighting like siblings do. It's weirdly intimate, to hear stories about Neymar's childhood and his family, and Leo wonders if he should really be there to listen to them, but when Rafaella tells him about a smaller Neymar with a shaved head and braces, he can't help avidly drinking in her words.

 

When the dinner is over Leo walks them back to Neymar's room, because it feels right and Neymar asked him to. Once there, Neymar finally decides he also wants to walk Leo back to his own room, leaving Rafaella on her own in his room and she leers at his brother knowingly.

 

Neymar has a spring in his step as they walk to his dorm.

 

“She's nice right? My sister.”

 

Leo nods. “Yes.”

 

“She wants to be a journalist later. She's going to do great things, I'm so proud of her,” Neymar says, his voice dripping with love and pride. Leo side-eyes him and he's suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety because what is he even doing there? Mascherano will glare at him so bad.

 

“I'm so happy you liked her. I think she thinks you're cool too. She better!” and Neymar giggles, again, the sound echoing in the empty corridors.

 

It's just a thought forming in Leo's mind, the fatalistic knowledge he has to be mean to Neymar eventually, the desperate search for something rude to say, so he won't have the impression he's leading Neymar on as much as he does now.

 

It's just a thought, not a full idea yet, but he wants to throw up before he even starts talking.

 

“I did like her. She was quite nice, and rather pretty too.”

 

“Yeah she is! Like a model,” Neymar boasts off again.

 

“Like a model yeah. She really looks more like a woman than she looks like a girl. Though with the way she looks, she probably won't stay a girl very long.”

 

He's not very direct, and he isn't sure whether Neymar understands, but he has the urge to take everything back as soon as it's out.

 

“A girl…? …what do you mean?” Neymar seems hesitant and Leo is pretty sure parts of him _do_ understand.

 

“That she's pretty, like I said. You know, under other circumstances, I wouldn't have _minded_ her.”

 

“Minded--- Leo what are you talking about?”

 

“Oh don't play dumb. I mean she has nice curves.” Leo mimics said curves with his hands, and there it is, nausea. She's 16, she's not even legal yet and she's been nothing but nice to him and here he is, reducing her to a body he barely looked at.

 

“Leo.” Neymar's voice is soft – a warning.

 

“What? Don't play the protective brother with me. I'm just saying.”

 

“Well don't. Don't say, she's--- she's 16 Leo, what the hell!”

 

Leo glances at Neymar's eyes – they're wide open and desperately telling him to just _stop_.

 

“What? You're gonna get prissy because I said your sister is hot? It's not like I said I wanted to do her, I just said I understand why people would want to.”

 

He regrets his words immediately, overcome with a profound sense of disgust after speaking them. Neymar is frozen on the spot, not making sense of his sentence yet, and Leo suddenly feels desperate because--- it's going to blow up in his face. There's no reason for it go any smoother than everything else did, it's going to blow up in his face and he's going to make Neymar sad again and the idea grips his stomach stronger than his words did, because with each new days he finds himself more and more unable to hurt Neymar.

 

He watches Neymar's face, waiting for him to process everything with a sense of doom rooted deep in his stomach.

 

Neymar processes his words and it's not sadness in his eyes.

 

“What the fuck Leo,” he hisses, gripping his collar and pushing him back a few steps.

 

It's not sadness in his eyes, it's something stronger and fiercer, something more red and overwhelming.

 

“It's my fucking sister, you don't get to talk like that about her!”

 

It's not sadness in his eyes, it's something darker and more powerful, something less shameful and more visible. It's Neymar's eyes piercing his like daggers and his fists clenching into his shirt with restrained emotions.

 

“Nobody gets to talk about her like that, don't you fucking _dare_.”

 

It's not sadness in Neymar's eyes, it's anger. _Anger_. Fury, because Neymar looks furious, his shoulders, his jaw, his posture tense. He's angry and sneering in Leo's face and that's a sight Leo never thought he'd see, never thought he'd get to see.

 

He laughs, nervously, because _anger_ , after all these weeks, Neymar is angry, at him, _finally_.

 

“Why are you laughing?” Neymar hisses, Leo's laughter making him angrier.

 

“You're being ridiculous,” Leo says without thinking. Neymar's anger is a thread and he needs to hold onto it. He feels almost dizzy, almost hysterical, almost delirious.

 

“Leo--” Neymar growls again and he cuts himself short, visibly trying to restrain himself from punching Leo and Leo wouldn't mind if Neymar failed to keep it in.

 

Instead Neymar pushes him roughly and sneers, “Get lost,” angrily, before stomping away,

 

Leo watches him leave, his heart beating fast, his head dizzy. He can't help the smile forming on his lips because anger, anger, _anger_. He's chanting the word in his head, and he almost forgets how much he wants to throw up.

 

He wants to laugh louder because of course, of course Neymar wouldn't get angry for himself but he'd be angry for others. But anger is anger whatever the reason is, and it's the best thing that has happened so far. It's the only light, the only exit he's ever created. He can maybe get out of it, free both himself and Neymar without hurting him, without making him cry, without breaking his heart into a million little pieces.

 

He doesn't think about Rafaella and how nice she has been, he doesn't think about what happens if Neymar looks beyond his anger, he doesn't think about the fact that all anger is borne out of pain. He can't afford to think about any of that, because this is the best chance he's got, the only chance he's got.

 

He can't fall asleep straight away – he's too busy laughing, delirious, hysterical, relieved like a man who had been walking too long in the dark and who is finally seeing the light. He giggles like a kid, a mad kid, until his face hurts, until his stomach hurts, until he can't breathe anymore and he wants to throw up.

 

(That night he dreams of Rafaella and a bald kid with braces, the both of them silent and staring at him accusingly. Leo wakes up sick and he has to go to the bathroom to throw up.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I said, I'm not sure what people expected to happen, but I consider it's one of Leo's worst moments because this is among the one that impacts Neymar the strongest.  
> Also, eight chapters ! That's the middle. Well, considering the 16th chapter in an epilogue, I'm technically past the middle of this story.  
> Anyway, next chapter--- ah well. Things never go quite as Leo expects them to. I feel like this is a summary of this story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first of all, you may have noticed that the chapters count went from 16 to 15. That's because, as I was writing them, I realized two chapters were similar and redundant, and decided to merge them together. As a result, we're getting even closer to the end.  
> As for this chapter : I left off at Neymar being angry, and upon reading the comments, I realized this chapter might not go where you expect it to. Sorry for any disappointment, but the drama must go on.  
> All of that said : I hope you'll enjoy this chapter !

He's happier than he's been in weeks when he meets Masche and Geri for lunch the day after.

 

“Why the good mood?” Gerard asks. “Weren't you supposed to stand up Neymar yesterday?”

 

“That was the plan. But I ended up going.”

 

Masche opens his mouth and Leo can _hear_ the reproach about to leave his mouth.

 

“But,” he says before Masche has the time to speak, “I did it.”

 

His friends look predictably puzzled. “Did what?”, Masche probes.

 

“I made him angry.” He smiles. “Neymar, he's angry, at _me_. He stomped away and told me to get lost. I thought he was going to hit me for a moment.”

 

He thinks his glee transpires in his voice and on his face because Masche gives him a funny look.

 

“That's great!” Gerard says, clapping him on the back. “And unexpected. I'll be honest with you, I didn't think you could do it. What did you even say to make him angry?”

 

“I-” he grimaces as he remembers. “God, don't remind me.”

 

“What?” Gerard sits at the edge of his seat, curious now.

 

“I said dirty things about his sister,” Leo mumbles.

 

Of course it's not enough to satiate Gerard's curiosity. “Dirty? What kind of dirty are we talking about here?”

 

“Sexual dirty,” Leo says under his breath, ashamed.

 

“Ew,” Gerard says, and then he bursts out laughing, throwing his head back with laughter.

 

“Don't laugh!” Leo protests. “She's not even legal yet!”

 

“ _Ew_ ,” Gerard repeats, and then he laughs louder.

 

Leo kicks him but if Geri has decided to laugh, it's pointless to try to stop him.

 

“Don't pay attention to him”, Masche says, and Leo focuses on him instead of Gerard's howling laughter. “It's a really good development.”

 

Leo nods.

 

Masche smiles. “I know it was hard, but you're finally getting there. Good job.”

 

Leo smiles too, pushing into the back of his head all the things he had to say for this to happen. If he never thinks about Rafaella again, he probably won't feel the guilt.

 

“You have to make the best of it now. Even if he looks sad, don't apologize, don't make--””

 

“Make excuses yeah I know Masche. I won't backtrack this time, I have no reason too.” Leo can't help grinning. “I think I found the way to make him hate me without hurting him.”

 

“You shouldn't grin,” Gerard says, grinning. “What if he comes to beat you up? What if he brings his friends and they gang up on you? The football season isn't over yet.”

 

Leo huffs. “I doubt he told anything to Dani,” he says, remembering the quizzical look in the corridor he'd received from him. That angers him a bit that Neymar would still not think this is the kind of events worth sharing with his friends. “Well it doesn't matter, whether he tells him or not. He's going to break up with me, and everyone will know about it.”

 

“You're not answering the question. When he confronts you stay safely away to avoid hits. He's very skinny but he might stab you with his bones.”

 

Leo snorts. The truth is, he wouldn't mind it at all if Neymar were to hit him. He doubts Geri will be happy to hear that though.

 

 

–

 

 

He's exiting the classroom, listening to Geri's jokes when a hand catches his arm and stops him dead in his tracks.

 

“Leo,” a voice greets him, and he turns around to see Dani Alves. “Can I talk to you?”

 

Leo stares at him for a few seconds. Dani looks stern and Leo wonders if in the end, Neymar told his friends about their argument. That would be great, a proof he thinks Leo is in the wrong, and the thought elates him.

 

He nods and Dani lets his arm go, turning around and expecting him to follow.

 

Geri bends down to talk into his ear.

 

“Tell me if you need help. He isn't very tall, I can step on him.”

 

Leo side-eyes him. “I'm not any taller than him.”

 

“Yeah, and have you ever won against me? I don't think so.”

 

Gerard grins, but as Leo catches up to Dani, he feels Gerard's eyes boring into his back, following them.

 

They don't go very far, just far enough that no one can hear them, but Leo still sees Gerard in the corner of his eyes, casually resting against the wall as though he wasn't spying on them for any sign of trouble.

 

“So what's up?”

 

His attention is brought back to Dani by the casual question. It's not really what he expected so he forgets to answer, staring at Dani weirdly instead. It doesn't seem to bother him.

 

“I take it you're aware that Neymar is angry.”

 

Leo nods.

 

“Been angry at you for almost a week.”

 

Leo nods again, and that seems to tick Dani off.

 

“Well why haven't you done something about it already?”

 

“Did he tell you why he was angry?” Leo probes instead.

 

Dani considers him for a few seconds but he ultimately seems to accept the change of topic, for now. “Not fully. Something about Rafaella.”

 

Leo would have liked it better if Neymar had told the full story, but he already feels relieved by the fact that Neymar said anything at all, that he felt Leo was wrong enough that it was alright to spread the word around.

 

“He's very fond of his sister you know?” Dani resumes talking. “I don't know what you did exactly but he's really angry. Don't you plane on doing anything about it?”

 

It's a question but it's not really, and Dani is telling him in no uncertain terms to apologize to Neymar.

 

“No,” he answers curtly and that takes Dani by surprise. “What's the point?”

 

Dani's eyes narrow and he stares at him, silent for several seconds. Leo wonders what he's thinking about, if he's maybe deciding whether he needs to be roughed up or yelled at. Leo wouldn't mind either option, but he still isn't going to make it up to Neymar – he shouldn't.

 

“I don't get you,” Dani finally says. “You look at Neymar like he's the most precious thing in the world, but then you do shit like this. What are you playing at?”

 

Leo's heart skips a beat. _The most precious thing in the world_ , Dani says, and Leo wants to laugh because what a ridiculous idea.

 

“It's not a game,” Dani goes on. “If you fuck up, you need to apologize.”

 

“No,” Leo answers firmly. His next words leave his mouth before he can give them too much thought. “If I apologize he might forgive me.”

 

His words stop Dani who, mouth open and a frown on his face, was ready to rant. “Yes. He might,” he finally admits, and he seems to calm down.

 

Leo is an idiot. He doesn't need to get on Dani's good side after all, doesn't need his compassion.

Dani's eyes soften and he looks like he's about to give him advice, something genuine and heartfelt, so Leo blurts out, “I made suggestive comments about his sister.”

 

The soft look in Dani's eyes go away, and he frowns madly instead.

 

“You-- _why_?”

 

Of course Leo doesn't answer, and Dani is angered by his silence, probably by the thought of his wrong deed too, and he cusses loudly in Portuguese. Leo doesn't have the time to dwell on it, because Dani's walking past him, bumping into him harshly and still swearing loudly, and Leo thinks some of these words are insults directed at him.

 

Leo watches him go, heart beating fast. He made Neymar angry at him, and now Dani too. Everything is going well, everything is going fine and Leo shouldn't feel that anxious.

 

His brain can't help supplying Dani's words to him, and he thinks maybe the dude isn't that perceptive, and for once Masche was wrong, because really? _You look at him like he's the most precious thin_ _g_ _in the world_ , that has to be the biggest misconception anyone ever had about him.

 

 

–

 

 

During the days that follow, nothing happens.

 

He barely catches a glimpse of Neymar and when he does, Neymar doesn't spare him a glance. Leo sleeps better, feels better, plays better on the pitch. He knows this is coming to and end – this whole thing is coming to an end. He won't have to lie or pretend. He won't have to hurt Neymar anymore, won't have to see his eyes when Leo crushes his hope only to give it back moments later. He will be able to let go of all the frustration in his body, built up over weeks of restraint and self-control.

 

And finally, one Wednesday afternoon, it all comes to an end.

 

He's heading to Gerard's room when someone knocks on his door. He has no reason to think it's Neymar behind that door, and so when it turns out that it is, he's left staring at him blankly like an idiot.

 

Neymar is looking down, scrubbing the carpet with his shoe. “Can I talk to you?” he asks in a small voice, not looking at him.

 

Leo silently steps aside to let him in.

 

Neymar comes in, taking a quick look around while Leo closes the door behind him. They both stand silently, several steps away from each other, before Neymar finally looks up and blurts out.

 

“I came to apologize.”

 

Leo was preparing himself to say _I understand_ or _it's better_ _this way_ or _sorry it turned out like this_ , but he hears those words and he freezes.

 

“What for.”

 

“Getting irrationally angry at you.”

 

Leo stares at Neymar. His mind feels blank; he can't process what's happening there.

 

“I've thought about it, what you said and--- I mean I'm biased you know? Towards my sister. And maybe I don't have the right to be angry. It's like- Dani, I don't like it if he meddles too much and maybe that's what I'm doing with Rafa too so I'm not really rational and--”

 

“Neymar,” Leo cuts him off. “Neymar I said I'd fuck your sister.”

 

Neymar flinches and for a moment Leo thinks he's going to get angry after all, but then his shoulders slump and he shakes his head.

 

“You didn't actually. Well not exactly. I think---- Actually I think you were trying to make me jealous.”

 

“Jeal-- oh god Ney. Don't do that.” Leo's voice is so faint he isn't sure Neymar hears him. His body is tensing up and he clenches his fists so tightly he can feel his nails dig into his skin. He almost wants to beg – _don't do that Neymar don't find me excuse please_.

 

“You know, when we went to the karaoke? I didn't notice it then, but Dani told me afterward that someone flirted with me and that you looked jealous and dejected. And I mean, sometimes you're grumpy, but you wouldn't say things like that about a girl, I know you wouldn't. I've thought really hard about this Leo, about why you'd say that and _this_ makes sense.”

 

Leo stops listening. “Neymar,” he says and it sounds more like a whine, something strangled and desperate. “You can't. You can't do that, you can't---”

 

This cannot be happening. There is no way someone could be as fucking naive as that. Leo doesn't want to believe it's happening.

 

“Hey it's fine,” Neymar walks up to him, holding his face in his hands but Leo refuses to lift his head, staring at the ground. Neymar's hands are nice on his skin and Leo closes is eyes, clenching his fists even tighter, hoping the sting will be enough to wake him up from this nightmare.

 

“Leo,” Neymar coos. He places a chaste kiss on his forehead. “I'm sorry if I was a bit insensitive. I know you're not very confident in your looks and things like that. You were super nice to me about uh, you know, my acne, but I didn't really do anything for you. There really is no reason for you to feel jealous because I-- I love you. And I don't want anyone else but you.”

 

“Neymar please--” _stop stop stop stop stop_

 

“Shhh,” Neymar whispers against his ear, shushing his pleas of _don't do that please Neymar don't do that_. “It's fine, I forgive you. That's what you said right? That I should recognize when you do something bad. I did, and now I forgive you.”

 

He places a kiss on his nose and Leo tries to pull back, tries to escape Neymar's mouth. His body refuses to move too much; he's so tense, his body so stiff he wonders whether the muscles around his heart are going to paralyze it and make it stop beating.

 

“You can't forgive me”, he manages between gritted teeth. “You can't forgive someone who doesn't apologize.”

 

Neymar is silent for a second. “There are things that don't need to be expressed by words,” he says softly.

 

“Yeah, and apologies _aren't_ one of those things.”

 

“But you seem so sad,” Neymar protests weakly. He reaches down, cupping his fists and he's still so close, too close, talking against his cheek. “You're shaking.”

 

And indeed he is, shaking. His muscles are too tense, too rigid, becoming rocks under his skin. He feels like his skin is going to crack any minute now.

 

There are too many things inside him. Too many feelings, to much pent up frustration, too much anger, too much pain. There are all the tears he won't let himself cry, all the times he kept himself from throwing up, all the times he clenched his teeth and bore with it. It's all there, on the verge of bursting out and if Leo opens his mouth he fears he'll let it all out, he'll yell and shout at Neymar, ask and beg how much, how far he needs to go for Neymar to understand. He'll shake him and shake him again until Neymar understands, until he finally _get_ _s_ it. And Leo's too afraid to open his mouth, too afraid to spill the truth and the truth would damage Neymar beyond repair and Neymar is there apologizing for something he didn't do and Leo wants to cradle his head and protect him and he wants to cry for him, to cry so hard for him.

 

Leo can't though, he doesn't have the right to any of the pain and the feelings he has. His jaw is set so tightly he wonders if he'll shatter his teeth. He keeps it all inside, the anger, the tears, the frustration. Neymar doesn't leave his side, doesn't stop caressing his face and kissing his cheek as though he is something precious and each new words he speaks is another reason for Leo's stomach to churn.

 

He doesn't realize his voice started working again until Neymar shushes him and Leo can't stop saying his name, _Neymar_ , like a plea, a prayer. He's trying to beg for mercy because this is all too much, and he wasn't built to handle that much guilt. Neymar doesn't get it.

 

( _You're going to get_ _killed_ _one day_ , he manages later, way later. Neymar giggles, all smile and shining eyes. _I'm not joking_ , Leo insists, but Neymar's smile widens. He doesn't get it.)

 

 

–

 

 

When he enters Gerard's room, hours later, the first thing he does is kick the bag nearest to him, sending it flying and crashing against the wall. The bag was loaded with heavy books and Leo's toes hurt, but it's not enough to appease his anger.

 

Gerard closes his mouth and Masche sits up straight, alert, as they take him in. He wonders what he looks like because Geri gets up and walks towards him hurriedly.

 

“Something happened?”

 

“He forgave me.”

 

“What?”

 

“Neymar. He forgave me,” he repeats mechanically.

 

Masche frowns from the side. “I told you not to--”

 

“I know!” Leo barks. “I didn't. I didn't apologize. I didn't say anything. He forgave me, all on his own.” His voice has an edge to it, something a bit high and hysterical.

 

Mascherano doesn’t say anything, glancing quickly at Gerard and they're both silent. Leo chuckles darkly, dropping his head and lifting his hands to grip his head.

 

“I'm an asshole,” he says dryly.

 

“No,” comes the automatic answer from Gerard. “You're not. You're just pretending to be one.”

 

“No, no. I'm an asshole,” Leo repeats.

 

“You're not. It's an act Leo, what matters is what's there,” Gerard says and his hands come up to touch his head.

 

“Who cares. Who cares what I think if I act like an asshole?” He must sound pretty self-depreciating because Geri's hand start rubbing his head, massaging his scalp soothingly.

 

Neymar did that too, hours before, and it doesn't help. Leo doesn't want to be comforted. He doesn't want someone to cuddle him and coddle him. He wants to be told he's an asshole, he wants to be shouted at and hated and mistreated. He wants anything, anyone that could make the guilt better. He wants something he deserves instead of Neymar's love.

 

“Can you-”, he starts, his voice strangled. “Can you--” He sees Neymar and his eyes and how trusting he is, how naive and gullible and open. He sees Neymar coming back for more, always coming back for more, despite Leo treating him like garbage, despite Leo being the biggest asshole there is. He sees Neymar forgiving things that can't be forgiven, apologizing for things he didn't do. He sees Neymar at his whim and it's all he can do not to cry.

 

“Can you imagine Neymar in an abusive relationship?” he finally manages. Geri's hands stop rubbing his head. “Because I _can_ ,” Leo says, desperate.

 

Of course he can, because it's him, he's the abuser. He's a terrible scum, an awful person, and there's nothing at this point that can redeem him. He thinks back to how this all started and this all blew up so bad, this all went too far and had he known, had he known he would have been stronger and told Neymar it was a mistake from the start, told him this confession wasn't meant to him.

 

He regrets; he regrets so much but it's too late already. He's caught up in his own lies, caught up in his own deception. He doesn't have any choice but to go forward but he can't. He can't go on like this, can't keep hurting Neymar, sweet, loving Neymar. He needs to do something, he needs an answer and a way out but he has none.

 

Gerard's hands start massaging his scalp again when Leo chokes on his voice. “Why won't--”

 

He can't. He can't get the words out. He's trying, he's trying so hard to keep it all in, so hard not to burst and implode from the guilt that's rotting him from the inside. He can't talk anymore because he's scared he'll break down right there and then and Leo can't do that, doesn't have the right to. There's no point saying it anyway, because he already knows neither Masche nor Geri will do anything. They won't be his salvation. They won't have any answers. He's on his own, but he deserves to be.

 

_("Why won't someone stop me already?")_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have probably warned for everyone becoming drama queens from this point on. Well I love drama.  
> As for next chapter, it'll be similar to this one, angst-wise. Leo will find a new solution to deal with his problems, but when has a plan of his ever worked before?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ! Sorry for not updating on Sunday, but my laptop was being repaired, and I couldn't do anything. And since the issue isn't resolved, I'm not sure if I'll be able to update this Sunday either.  
> That said ! Concerning this chapter, a few of you suggested that should happen exactly what is going to happen. Though, nothing ever goes as planned. Um, to be safe, I'm going to put a slight warning for, I don't know, emotional blackmail? Ah well, this isn't a very happy chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless !

Leo needs a way out. Things are getting out of hand, and Leo realizes he may have lost control a while ago.

 

The only moment he had control was when he met Neymar after wrongly confessing to him, and he didn't have the guts to break his heart. He's been a coward then and when he thinks about it and all the things he did since, it's so laughable that he thought _this_ was the better option. He wishes he could go back in time, he wishes he could be straight-forward with Neymar and own up to his mistakes. He wishes he had listened to Masche – he wishes he listened to Mascherano more, but Masche is too classy to say _I told you so_.

 

Actually neither Masche nor Geri looks very happy about the whole affair, and Leo knows they feel guilty too, in their very own way. Leo would take their guilt for them but he has so much of it already; it's filling his lungs and his stomach, it's running in his veins and seeping through every one of his muscles. He needs to find a way, any way, that could make it all end now.

 

He can't possibly say the truth to Neymar, cannot imagine how much it would hurt him to hear that Leo has been pretending all along. He can't keep playing the asshole either – he doesn't want to hurt Neymar any more. He _can't_ , it physically hurts to even think about it, to the point he feels sick all the time.

 

There's one thing though, one thing he hasn't tried yet : breaking up.

 

He remembers dismissing the idea before, because it didn't make sense to break up after only one day. But now it's been two months, and what seemed weird then would be understandable now. Break ups are common, break ups happen. They can be painful of course, but it's nothing like the pain Neymar would go through if Leo kept on doing what he's doing now. It's a swift and definitive blow, it's the fairest way to end this.

 

Of course Neymar would be hurt but break ups happens don't they. People fall out of love or they realize they aren't made to be. Everyone is entitled to ending a relationship, and when compared to every other options he has, Leo realizes this is by far the best one. He's done being a coward and trying to make Neymar hate him. He'll stare Neymar in the eyes and tell him it's over, and he won't backtrack this time.

 

This is the kindest thing he can do, and at least this, this he can't fuck up.

 

 

–

 

 

After two days of holing himself in his room, he finally finds the courage to meet Geri and Masche to inform them of his plan.

 

“I'm going to break up with him,” is the first thing he says, without preamble, before Geri even has the time to greet him.

 

Gerard is dumb enough to ask _who_ , only for Mascherano to hit his head.

 

“ _That_ is going to hurt him, too,” Mascherano says, staring at him as though assessing whether Leo will have the guts to go through with this.

 

“I know but it will hurt him less than if I keep on… playing with his feelings like that.”

 

Masche hums. “And you're sure you'll be able to do it? If he looks you in the eye and starts crying, what are you going to do?”

 

Leo flinches at Masche's words and the thought of Neymar crying, but he recovers quickly. He steels his resolve and answers, “I'll go through with it,” his voice firm. He _will_ , because he doesn't have any other choice.

 

Mascherano nods. “Good.” And then he repeats to himself under his breath, _good_.

 

“When will you tell him?” Gerard asks, pulling him towards his couch so they can sit down.

 

“I--- tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow, after his classes end.”

 

There's something definite about choosing a date, as though setting it in stone, and his stomach churns at the thought.

 

“Yeah that seems like a good plan. Actually we should have thought about this sooner,” Mascherano says.

 

Gerard nods along. “To be honest, the quicker it ends the better. This whole thing is taking its toll on you.”

 

Leo scoffs.

 

“I'm serious!” Geri protests. “I thought you were going to break down, last time. We're worried about you you know?”

 

Leo considers his two friends for a few seconds, how they're watching him, how they've always been there for him. Leo can see it, the worry painted all over their faces when they look at him.

 

“Yeah I know,” he mumbles.

 

 

–

 

 

Leo barely sleeps that night. He's dreading it, dreading the look on Neymar's face. But then again, with all he did to him, he doesn't think he can make Neymar any sadder than he already did.

 

He still can't find sleep, turning over and over in his bed, trying to think of words, sentences, things to say. Leo has never been the one to confess first, and he's never been the one to break up either, and he has no idea how it's done. He wonders whether being blunt is too brutal, or if on the contrary, sweetening the blow is the cruelest thing to do. He wonders whether he should look sympathetic or if he should be cold and determined.

 

He doesn't think there's any right answer, and so he goes to Neymar's room with no idea of what he's going to do. There's a sense of doom in his every steps. He stares at the door for several minutes before finding the courage to actually knock on it.

 

Neymar opens the door, and he's the same as always – a large tank top that shows too much skin, a pair of shorts hanging too low on his hips, and a smile on his face that stretches and stretches when he sees Leo.

 

“Come in, come in,” Neymar steps aside immediately without Leo asking, and Leo shuffles in slowly.

 

“How are you? How's your cold?”

 

“Fine, it's fine,” Leo mumbles. He told Neymar he had a cold to explain his absence, and it had been the most troublesome thing stopping Neymar from barging in to make him drink soup.

 

“Is it?” Neymar inquires. He steps close to him to peer down at his face. “You look sick,” he says, reaching a hand up.

 

Leo brushes Neymar's hand off, taking a few steps back. Neymar doesn't wear a lot of clothes and he's clearly just out of the shower – he smells fresh and clean and sweet and it's overwhelming.

 

“I need to talk to you.”

 

“Ok.” Neymar has a smile at the corner of his lips. “Talk then.”

 

Leo looks at Neymar's earnest and trusting face for a few seconds. He has no idea, absolutely no idea what is going to happen after that. _Après moi le deluge_ , he thinks.

 

“It's not working.” He looks at Neymar, careful not to let anything transpire on his face, masking every feelings he has so the only thing left is an unwavering will. “You and me. It's not working.”

 

Neymar's posture doesn't change, his smile doesn't drop a bit, frozen on his face – so much so that it looks unnatural.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“That it's not working.” Leo lets out a dramatic sigh. “We both tried, but we're clearly not compatible.”

 

Neymar's smile drops bits by bits. He starts taking deep breaths in that make his chest heave regularly, as though he's trying to get his breathing under control. “ _Clearly_?” he repeats in a high-pitched voice.

 

“Look, Ney-”

 

“No.”

 

“Ney-”

 

“ _No_.” Neymar is starting to get restless, clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides. “That's bullshit. Why are you saying that, I don't get it.”

 

“One of us has to say it,” Leo answers, and Neymar's eyes snap to his face immediately. “It's not working. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. You and I are both too different.”

 

“And so?” Neymar says stubbornly. “I love you.”

 

Leo flinches. “It doesn't matter.” His throat feels dry and his tongue furred. “Think about the last two months. How many things happened that showed just how different we are? You might think it's ok now but it's going to get worse.”

 

“No,” Neymar repeats, like it's the only word he knows. He's rooted in one place but his body is thrumming, restless. His fists are clenched by his sides and he doesn't seem to be able to decide whether he wants to look at him or not.

 

“No,” he repeats hoarsely.

 

“I”m sorry Ney, but it's for the best.”

 

Neymar doesn't answer, head down, and Leo stares at him for a while, waiting for his answer. None come. He thinks that's it really – he thought Neymar would protest more, but he's glad it's over so soon. His heart is beating way too fast, and he feels nauseous, resisting the urge to run away every time Neymar says _no_.

 

He takes a step forward, and then another, slowly heading to the door. He looks away from Neymar's unmoving form when he walks by him.

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

That stops Leo dead in his tracks.

 

Neymar's voice is quiet, soft. He's standing in the room, prostrate as though trying to take as little space as possible.

 

_Fuck._

 

“No, you didn't do anything wrong.”

 

“Don't lie. It's my fault right? Am I annoying you? I can- I can-”, Neymar stops, choking on his words, and Leo's heart is beating so fast in his chest he feels like it's going to explode. His stomach keeps twisting and churning and he feels sick.

 

“It's not your fault Neymar, I swear it's not--”

 

Neymar looks at him finally and his eyes-- they're wild and desperate and wet with the tears he's trying to keep in.

 

“I can do better. Just tell me, anything you want, I can give it to you. Give me a chance, please please-”

 

Neymar lunges at him, clinging to his shirt and singing a desperate litany of _please_ on his shoulder. His shirt feels humid and he knows Neymar has stopped fighting his tears.

 

Leo's heart beats so fast and yet he feels like he's suffocating.

 

“Neymar,” he chokes out. “Stop, stop.”

 

Neymar doesn't answer, keeps repeating _please_ against his shoulder. He leans his whole weight on him as he sobs, and Leo has no choice but to hold him to keep him from falling to his knees.

 

“It's not because of you, I swear so--”

 

He wonders if Neymar hears him at all, too busy sobbing against him.

 

Leo's mind is going crazy, searching and searching for a solution, an idea, anything. It's not going as planned and he has no idea what to do. He wants to backtrack, he wants to take everything back right now right then. Neymar's begging him and Leo doesn't deserve it and it's breaking his heart. He holds onto Neymar tighter to keep him up, and if Neymar falls Leo will sink on his knees with him.

 

“Stand up Neymar please.”

 

“I'm sorry, I'll do anything, I'm sorry.”

 

“Stop begging me, I already said it's not your fault.”

 

It's impossible for him to leave now, not like that, with Neymar crying and begging and blaming himself. It's too much, Neymar's reaction is too much, he's willing to bend and break to accommodate Leo and Leo doesn't even ask.

 

He holds onto Neymar even tighter, and he wants--- he wants to rub his back and kiss his head and tell him he's perfect and it's going to be fine. He wants Neymar to stand up and smile and make bad jokes. But Neymar's crying and begging and that's Leo's fault, that's his doing and Leo wonders if it's Neymar or him who is shaking so bad. Both probably.

 

Neymar is clinging desperately and chanting _please_ and crying and Leo can't, he can't he can't. He can't hurt Neymar any more, he can't bear to make him cry. Neymar is too heavy in his arms and he can't keep him up anymore, and they both fall to their knees, Leo keeping a strong grip on Neymar lest he falls even lower.

 

“Look at me--- Neymar look at me,” he demands, holding Neymar's cheeks to push his head back. “You need to stand up Ney, you need to be strong.”

 

Neymar frowns at him, and the tears are still flowing from his eyes, his nails digging into his arms as he tries to cling onto him.

 

“You can't do that. You can't--- you can't let me hold you back, God I'm so so bad for you and you deserve so much better.”

 

“Bullshit, that's bullshit,” Neymar cries out, his brows furrowed angrily. “Don't give me that _'it's not you it's me'_ bullshit, I don't care about that. I just want to know how to be better.” Neymar's voice breaks every few syllables.

 

“It's not bullshit, I'm not lying. I keep hurting you. I can't give you anything.”

 

Neymar shakes his head in denial and he surges forward, crashing their mouths together hard enough to cut their lips with their teeth.

 

Leo grunts and Neymar pushes hard enough to make him fall on the floor, and Neymar's on him within seconds, attacking his lips desperately, biting and pressing so hard it's painful.

 

“No, Ney--” Neymar is relentless and Leo has trouble keeping him away. “Don't you get it? I need to do this, I don't want to hurt you any more.”

 

“You don't hurt me, you never hurt me.”

 

Leo turns his head before Neymar dives down again, and he attacks his neck instead, wet kisses mingling with awful tears.

 

Leo lets out a sardonic laughter. “That's a big fat lie and you know it.”

 

“I don't know anything,” Neymar says stubbornly. He bites down hard on his flesh, hard enough to draw blood, as though trying to root himself right there where Leo can't shake him off.

 

Leo wraps his arms around him, holding him tight. He's trembling, and he can''t do that, _fuck_ he can't do that.

 

“Let me go Neymar, please. I love you too much to keep hurting you.”

 

Neymar sinks his teeth deeper, holding him tighter, like a stubborn child trying to escape reality and _God_ it's not a lie, it cannot be a lie.

 

“I love you,” Leo sobs out, but there are no tears in his eyes because at least one of them has to keep it together. “I love you so much.”

 

It hits him hard in the face and he has to close his eyes for a moment. He forgets how to breathe because _he loves Neymar_ , and the irony of it is overwhelming. Neymar, _fucking Neymar_ , the only person he shouldn't fall in love with, the only person he ever tried to hurt, the _very_ _person_ he's trying to break up with. He loves Neymar like he never loved anyone. He loves him desperately, hard enough that the very thought of hurting him is now physically paining him, and Neymar's crying in his arms and that's his fault and he wants to throw up.

 

Neymar finally draws his teeth out, and there's blood mixed with saliva and tears running down his shoulders. Neymar whimpers pitifully and licks the bite, like a puppy after hurting its master, distressed as it tries to heal a wound it bit into its master's skin. Neymar keeps whining as he licks and he doesn't stop until Leo pulls his head back to look at him.

 

His eyes are still blurry with tears but they focus on him with acute lucidity.

 

“I want you to be happy,” Leo says earnestly.

 

“Then stay with me.”

 

“I can't-- you don't get it, I _can't_.”

 

“So it's my fault right?”

 

“No it's not I said—”

 

“Then stay.” Neymar's eyes don't stray away from his face and his hands are holding him tightly, nails digging into his biceps. “If it really wasn't my fault then you would stay.”

 

“It's not that easy Ney, things aren't that easy--”

 

“They are,” Neymar insists. “If you break up with me it means I did something wrong.”

 

It's irrational and illogical, and it dawns on Leo that Neymar, for once, has picked up on how desperate he is, and as desperate as him, Neymar is trying to guilt-trip him into staying and that's not healthy, god it isn't healthy at all.

 

“You can't do that Ney. You can't do that.”

 

Neymar's hands slip under his shirt roughly, and he's kissing him again, and Leo is an idiot and he's also desperate so he kisses back, tastes his own blood on Neymar's lips.

 

Neymar goes down his neck again, biting and sucking hickeys, marking him as though that could make him stay.

 

Leo is afraid he's losing his sanity again. Neymar won't give him up, he won't ever give him up, he'll hold onto him until Leo breaks him into a millionth little pieces, and Leo gets it and he only gets this now – that Neymar is confident, he's hot-blooded and self-assured, but he gives Leo – only Leo – the power to destroy him, and Leo is also the only one trying to break him. He's the one causing his wounds but he's also the one Neymar gives the power to heal them and it's wrong, _it's so wrong_.

 

“You said you loved me,” Neymar murmurs brokenly against his skin. “Then prove it. Otherwise you're a liar.”

 

Leo chokes on nothing, and Neymar's hands are under his shirt and it's fucked up, Neymar's fucked up and it's his fault, and he's fucked up too, and that's also his fault. He grips Neymar's hair and presses him down against him, holding him tight enough to crush him against his body, crush their chests so close together they can barely breath. It's enough to stop Neymar's hands from touching and his mouth from kissing.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Leo asks, almost pleading.

 

“Fuck me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Then you don't love me.”

 

“ _Neymar_ ,” Leo says warningly, because he's an emotional train-wreck but he's not that mad yet.

 

“If you loved me you'd want me, but you don't want me at all. So you're a liar.” Neymar says, petulant like a child, and he's shaking against his frame.

 

“No.”

 

“Liar, liar, you're a liar--” Neymar sings, except it sounds more like sobs than anything else.

 

“God Neymar, _stop_ , _stop_.”

 

“ _You_ stop. It's your fault, you're the one who's telling lies, liar, liar---”

 

Leo can't take it anymore and he forces Neymar's head back, kissing him roughly if only to make him shut up.

 

“I won't fuck you,” he says between kisses.

 

“Then you're a liar.”

 

“I'm not,” Leo insists licking Neymar's lips to soothe the ache of the cuts there.

 

Neymar lets out a pathetic sob against his mouth. “Then don't break up with me.”

 

“Ok,” Leo finally relents and he hates himself, god he hates himself so much. “Ok.”

 

 

–

 

 

He spends what feels like hours laying on Neymar's floor, long enough for his back to hurt, long enough for Neymar's tears to dry, and when they finally get up Neymar's eyes are red and he smiles shyly and happily, and of course he would, Leo had backed out and backtracked once again.

 

Neymar offers him to stay over for dinner but Leo refuses. He goes straight to his room, hurrying back, walking so fast he's almost running. He needs to be alone, desperately so, because he feels everything crashing down around him.

 

He reaches his room and Masche and Geri are there, waiting for him. Leo wants them gone but he held on too long and he doesn't have the strength to kick them out. Geri smiles widely at him, a joke at the tip of his tongue but Leo goes straight to his bed to lay down.

 

He cries.

 

He did his best for two months, did his best today not to give out, not to break under the pressure, and he's been so good, kept everything bottled up inside him but he can't anymore. All the frustration, all the guilt and the anxiety, kept inside and locked away, it's all spilling out and he can't stop it lest he implodes. He sobs on his pillow like Neymar sobbed against him hours before, and everything is overwhelming – he's trapped, like a mouse in a cage, he's trapped and he has no way out, and he loves Neymar and he's an asshole.

 

Geri is at his side in a matter of seconds, climbing onto the bed next to him, calling his name. Leo buries his face in his pillow, hiding from their view because he's pathetic and pitiful, because he's not entitled to any of this pain and he should let it eat away at his insides but he's a coward so he lets it spill out instead.

 

“Leo what's wrong?” - that's Masche's voice, calmer than Geri.

 

“I couldn't do it,” he sobs in his pillow and he doesn't think he can be heard. “I'm an asshole.”

 

“You're not, it's not you Leo--” Geri starts but Leo cuts him off, curling on himself.

 

“I am, I am,” he chants airily. “I love him,” he blurts out.

 

“Of course you do,” Masche whispers.

 

He climbs onto the bed too and Geri plasters against his back, trying to soothe him, telling him he's a nice person and he's a great guy and Leo hates it, hates the fact he's being comforted and hates the fact he listens to Geri's words, desperate for anything that could make him feel better and discharge him from the unbearable guilt that's crushing him.

 

“Make it stop,” he begs instead.

 

Masche and Gerard tense up at his sides and neither of them say anything, because there's nothing to say. Leo doesn't have a way out, none, he's trapped in his own damn dirty game, so deep into this scam he became a scam himself. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, and everything keeps getting worse and the thought of keeping up as it is and pushing Neymar away until he breaks is so devastating and painful that he sobs even harder, clenching his fists into his pillow and he feels like he's suffocating. It's doom, it's fatality, it's helplessness and Leo losing control. He feels trapped inside a car and he's barreling straight towards the wall, and he's going to crash both himself and Neymar against it.

 

Masche and Gerard are soothing presence next to him but Leo feels like he's drowning and they're just looking at him sink with sympathetic looks on their faces. They stop trying to comfort him after a while, just stay by his sides while Leo's body is shaken by sobs. They stop trying to correct him every time he says _I'm_ _an asshole_.

 

They don't say anything either when Leo begs them to tell him it's going to be fine, but Leo isn't delusional enough to expect an answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm never sure how people will feel about the things I write. Will they side with Leo, Neymar, both? For once, I consider the both of them aren't acting very neatly his chapter, but that's despair for you.  
> Anyway, angst angst. Next chapter will have a bit of it in the beginning, but then the tone will change. As for what happens - Leo receives advice from an unexpected third party.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there ! I was able to update today but sadly, I have officially run out of chapters already written. I'll try to keep updating every Sunday but alas, I cannot make any promise.   
> That said, this chapter isn't as emotional as the last ones? I mean I don't think it is. I hope you'll enjoy it!

If that was up to Leo, he wouldn't go out for a whole week. For a whole month. For the rest of his life. He wants nothing more than to hole up in his room, curls under his sheets and waits until his problems are all mysteriously resolved.

 

Alas, neither Masche nor Geri seems on board with this idea, and when Monday comes around, they forcefully drag him out of his room and to football training. There are dark circles under his eyes and the coach seems worried.

 

He barely slept the last few nights. He can't focus in training, can't focus in classes, can't focus on anything. His heart is perpetually beating too fast and he feels it beating in every parts of his body – he can't fall asleep because his heart won't calm down, because it's pulsing with nothing but anxiety and dread.

 

Neymar comes to the end of his training on Monday, a bright smile on his face and a spring in his steps. He bends down to kiss him and this is somehow unbearable. This whole thing is supposed to come to an end but now Leo realizes he's closed all the doors and all there's left is to keep fooling Neymar forever hoping he'd somehow let go and Leo can't do that, he can't keep doing that.

 

Neymar acts as though nothing happened, chatting with him but there's a big red angry bite on Leo's neck and dark circles under his eyes and he knows Neymar notice them. He knows because Neymar is all sweet, leaning onto him and touching him nicely, like a dog trying to appease its angry master, trying to tell its master it's good and it shouldn't be given up.

 

It feels awful, and every seconds of their meeting is excruciating, but when Neymar bends down again to kiss him goodbye, his skin is soft and he smells like bubble-gum so Leo kisses back fiercely because it's the only thing he has right now.

 

Still, when Geri and Masche comes to pick him up the day after, there's nothing they can do to make him leave his room.

 

He knows they worry, he sees it in their eyes, in the way they try too hard to be enthusiastic, in how desperately Geri begs him to open the door. But Leo feels so bad, his whole body a weight he's dragging around and he feels an irrational, crippling fear of helplessness. He knows something has to happen, nothing can't _not_ happen, but he also has absolutely no idea what to do and in the meantime, sleeping it off seems like the best option.

 

Gerard comes back to bug him the day after.

 

“Leo come on, you're acting like a child,” he says through the door. “The coach is going to get mad if you don't show up to training.”

 

Leo ignores him. Gerard sounds sad and here's one more thing for him to feel bad about.

 

“If you don't want to go out, at least let me in. We can talk about it.”

 

Leo sighs deeply. He doesn't want to Geri to feel bad, so he groggily gets up and shuffles to his door, unlocking it. Geri slips in immediately, as though scared Leo will change his mind.

 

“I'm in,” Gerard announces once he safely stands in the middle of the room, as though getting inside was a secret mission he finally completed.

 

Gerard is stupid like that and usually Leo would laugh but this time he ignores him and shuffles right back to his bed. He hears Gerard sigh behind his back as he sneaks back under his covers, and then the bed dips slightly, Geri laying down on his back next to him.

 

“I know you don't like sharing your feelings with us but, you could rely on us more. We're there for you.”

 

“I know,” Leo mumbles.

 

Gerard snorts. “Of course you know.”

 

There's movement on the bed and Leo assumes Geri turns towards him.

 

“It's going to get resolved Leo. That thing with Neymar. I'm sure something will happen.”

 

“What? What will happen?” Leo turns towards him swiftly. “He won't break up with me. He won't ever, ever break up with me.”

 

“You don't know that. He might get over you eventually--”

 

“I don't want to wait that long! I can't keep fooling him forever, in the vain hopes that he'll get over it. I can't keep hurting him, I just can't.”

 

“Because you love him,” Gerard says matter-of-factly. Leo nods. “Shit Leo.” Gerard moves forward, taking him in his arms. He feels like a little child in Geri's arm. “Don't despair ok? We'll find a way, together. It's going to be fine.”

 

“You don't really believe that.”

 

“I do,” Gerard insists. “I'm sure there's something we haven't tried yet. Maybe we can find someone else for him, or maybe we can make his family hate you, or maybe you could cheat on him. I'm sure there is _something_.”

 

It doesn't seem real, but Leo is tired. Geri's arms are big and he's warm, and Leo feels like a small kid. He drinks in his words, takes all the comfort he can get and for a moment he lets himself believe that he still has control over his life, that he still remembers what it's like being himself.

 

 

–

 

 

The days pass in a haze. He receives a few texts from Neymar which he answers mechanically. He goes to classes because Geri asked him to, and he desperately hang onto the hope that he can still do something not to sink further into his own trap.

 

He's coming back from the store, bags full of snacks because he's barely hungry but when he is he certainly doesn't feel like cooking. He bumps into someone, apologizing under his breath when a voice stops him.

 

“Leo?”

 

He lifts his head only to discover that the person he bumped into is none other than Antonella.

 

Leo blinks at her a few times before realizing he should say something. “Antonella,” he greets solemnly.

 

“It's been a while,” she says. “Months.”

 

“Yeah.” Leo nods, looking behind her head. The last time he saw her he made her cry, and that's not something he remembers fondly.

 

“Actually I was thinking about you recently,” she says. Leo frowns at her, puzzled, and she smiles. “Do you have a few minutes? It will be great if we could talk a bit.”

 

Leo nods. He wonders what she wants to talk to him about. He fails to see how there's anything more to be said about the two of them – he led her on in an awful way and she should be hating him right now.

 

They go to a coffee shop, the same as last time and it brings back bad memories. The place is still empty and they sit on the exact same table, on the exact same seats. She orders the exact same drink, and Leo frantically orders something different.

 

She considers him silently, warming her hands on her mug.

 

“I have a boyfriend,” she finally says.

 

Leo heaves a sigh of relief. He thinks this is one of these moments – she wants to tell him she moved on, probably for her own sake but Leo would be lying if he said the news isn't a relief to him. It's a weight lifted off of his shoulders – a very small, very tiny weight compared to everything _Neymar_ , but it's a weight nonetheless and at that point, he can do without the crushing guilt of ruining Antonella's love life.

 

“I've been with him for a few weeks now. He's really nice,” she goes on, looking at him pointedly.

 

“I'm happy for you,” Leo says as sincerely as he can. “You deserve it.”

 

“It?” she repeats. “You mean a relationship with someone that actually loves me and values me?”

 

Leo doesn't even flinch. He nods.

 

Antonella shakes her head, her eyes finally straying away from his face. “I don't get you anymore, and yet two months ago I thought I knew everything about you.”

 

“Why did you want us to talk?” Leo blurts out. “I'm happy for you, I really am, but I don't get it.”

 

“I don't know,” she admits. “I'm happy right now. I feel loved, and I've never seen you look so depressed, and when I saw you I thought… that maybe I could make you regret playing with me. That I could rub my happiness in your face but...” she trails off hesitantly.

 

“You could,” Leo says softly. “Rub it in, I don't mind.”

 

“I know you do. But now that we're sitting there that plan seems stupid. I just, I never really found closure. I got over you, I really did, but I never got over what happened. I still think about it sometimes, how you played with me and made me a fool. I'm in my boyfriend's arms and I'm happy and then I wonder if he's lying to me too and--”

 

Leo does flinch this time and Antonella stops talking. All the guilt he felt relieved of minutes ago comes back to hit him full force as he realizes he gave Antonella's trust issues and of course he would have, what kind of idiot was he not to consider it?

 

He lowers his head and rubs his face a few times, trying to rub off the weariness and misery that are coming back to haunt him. Not only does he have to ruin Neymar, what he did is also affecting a girl that he once loved and that has never been anything but honest with him. The thought she is wary now, insecure because of him, is intolerable and yet there's no way he can make this thought disappear.

 

“Leo?”

 

It was such a small event, just a message he sent to the wrong person, how could it have gone _so_ _far_?

 

“Leo?” Antonella repeats, worried this time, and Leo lifts his head slowly, because if anything he doesn't want _her_ to worry about him.

 

“I'm alright,” he answers her silent question. “I never lied to you.”

 

Antonella's face, open as she showed worry for him, closes off instantly and she sits straighter. “Look, Leo--”

 

“No, no, listen--” Leo has all kind of words, this whole story ready to spill out from his lips. He promised himself he'd never share it with anyone, for fear of making Neymar look like a fool, but Antonella is there and she's insecure and Leo is desperate to make _this_ right, at least.

 

“I sent my confession to the wrong person,” he finally blurts out.

 

Antonella looks at him, confused and puzzled.

 

“I wanted to confess to you but I didn't know what to say. I've never been good with this sort of things.”

 

“Yes I know.”

 

“While I was worrying about what to send, a new message came up, from Neymar, and I didn't look at the sender, I thought that was you so I… I told Neymar I liked him instead of telling you.”

 

Antonella is silent, digesting his words, processing his story. She looks wary and disbelieving, and Leo goes on, the need to _talk_ overpowering his silence for once.

 

“He confessed right back to me. He sent so many messages, he--- I tried to tell him the truth the day after, that it wasn't meant for him but he looked so happy and I… couldn't.”

 

Said out loud, _he couldn't_ , it feels so weak. He feels like the biggest coward there ever was, and Masche had told him to be honest and why why why does he never listen to Masche?

 

“I'm not sure I understand,” Antonella says, pronouncing each words slowly. “You couldn't so you just, what, got into a relationship with him anyway? That's it?”

 

“I-- yes, no, it's complicated. The plan was to make him break up with me quickly.”

 

“Quickly,” she repeats. “Leo it's been more than _two months._ ”

 

“I know I know,” Leo chants. “It's not going the way--- I mean, I fucked up but, that's not the point,” he says desperately. “I just want you to know that I _did_ love you. I _did_ want you.”

 

Antonella looks incredulous but he can tell she believes him nonetheless.

 

“It's… a lot,” she finally says.

 

“I know.”

 

“You're telling me if he hadn't sent this message to you, we would be together right now.”

 

“Probably.”

 

She closes her eyes, frowning, and starts massaging the sides of her head, as though getting a painful headache.

 

“I don't know how to feel about that. Do you--- are you telling me because you want another chance or--”

 

“No, no, not at all,” Leo rushes to correct her. “I just want you to know I didn't lie and that, whoever your boyfriend is, he's probably a great, genuine guy. You deserve the full explanation, so I'm giving it to you, to help you get closure.”

 

“Ok,” she says. “Ok. So right now, you and me?”

 

“I love Neymar,” Leo blurts out.

 

“Ok,” she repeats. And then she closes her eyes again. “God this is a mess Leo.”

 

“Does it help?” Leo asks hopefully.

 

“I don't know. It's a lot to take in, and it's not that easy telling myself he isn't playing with me now that I'm convinced he might. You understand right?”

 

Leo's shoulders drop but he nods. Of course he gets it but it was worth a try.

 

“Thank you for telling me though. I'm still not sure what to do with it but… I'm glad you told me, in the end.”

 

“I should have told you from the beginning.”

 

Antonella takes several sips of her drink, and Leo does the same, and they don't talk for several minutes. Leo looks outside and Antonella looks at him, considering him. It doesn't feel like the conversation is over yet.

 

She's the one to break the silence.

 

“Tell me more about Neymar.”

 

It takes Leo off guard, and his eyes snaps to her. “Neymar? What do you mean?”

 

“That thing with Neymar. What are you _still_ doing with him?”

 

“It's complicated.”

 

“I know, that's why I'm asking.”

 

Leo nibbles on his bottom lips, considering her question. It feels way too personal, something between him and Neymar. He doesn't think he has any business talking about it to his not-ex, but there's a relief that comes with talking, and it feels easier talking to her, who he will never manage to be friends with again, than with Geri and Masche, who worry and worry and worry.

 

“The plan, to make him break up with me, it was supposed to work really fast because--- he didn't know me. We thought, I thought he would only need one little push. I missed the very first date we planned, one week after his confession. I thought this would be enough.”

 

“Yeah,” she says, cocking an eyebrow, seemingly thinking the same.

 

“It wasn't. He waited for me for hours, under the rain, and he wasn't mad in the slightest.”

 

Antonella's eyebrows rise higher up her face, and Leo feels better, validated in his feelings because _this_ _wa_ _sn't a normal reaction_ , it couldn't have been.

 

“And then it just… got worse. I tried to be an asshole to make him break up with me, and it didn't work. Nothing worked. I went so far, told him so many bad things. I've been such a jerk, and _nothing_. He's even more in love with me than he was at the start,” Leo says, a desperate edge to his voice.

 

“And now you love him too,” she finishes for him. Leo nods.

 

“I don't want to hurt him anymore, so I tried to break up with him--”

 

“A break-up _is_ going to hurt him,” she cuts him.

 

“I know. I didn't have the guts to do it in the end, and I backed out. I keep backing out. God I'm such a loser,” he laments, gripping his head with his hands.

 

It feels wrong, to be complaining and self-pitying in front of Antonella of all people, someone he hurt so deeply, but he can't help himself, and Antonella seems to want him to talk, anyway.

 

“Well,” Antonella says carefully, “this is an ever bigger mess than I thought. Making you jealouswould have been even more futile than I thought, uh?” Leo lifts his head to look at her and she smiles sadly. “I've known you happier.”

 

“I deserve that.”

 

“You probably do. I won't lie, you made a big mistake. But it doesn't bring me any pleasure seeing you like that. What are you going to do now?”

 

“I don't know. Nothing, there's nothing I can do.”

 

“Aren't you going to tell him the truth?”

 

Leo's eyes widen in disbelief. “The truth? I- the whole point is that I _don't_ want to hurt him.”

 

“But he deserves to know the truth.” She frowns at him. “What, are you going to keep being an asshole forever then?”

 

“I don't know, maybe, maybe not. I'll find something, I _can't_ tell him the truth.”

 

“You can and you should! What's the point of your feeling bad if you don't take the right decisions now?”

 

“You don't get it. You don't know him, he's-- I would break him.”

 

“Regardless,” Antonella says sternly. “Haven't you learned anything from your mistakes? Breaking up a relationship you shouldn't be in makes no sense. Making him hate you makes even less sense. You're an adult Leo, and he is too, and you owe him the truth.”

 

Leo shakes his head in denial, and he's getting annoyed. He thought he could freely talk but this is nonsense, all of that is nonsense.

 

“What Leo then? Are you going to keep making him believe you love him?”

 

“I _do_ love him.”

 

“Oh yes, so you'll just go out with him happily as though nothing happened.”

 

“I--” Antonella's words sink in, and it's a revelation. “Why not?”

 

She frowns at him but Leo's mind is already busy, whirring with possibilities, because _what if_. What if he stops trying to break things up with Neymar, what if instead of trying to break them apart, he embraces their relationship for what it is, and starts working on being Neymar's boyfriend, for real?

 

“Leo,” Antonella says, her voice a warning but Leo is no longer listening.

 

The beginning, the weeks before wouldn't matter. He could be with Neymar and make him happy, and Neymar will never have to know, and he'll never have to cry again, and he'll never have to apologize or forgive again. Leo could spare him each and ever type of pain and they could be happy together.

 

“ _Leo_ ”, Antonella repeats, more insistent. “Leo, don't do that.”

 

“Do what? I'm not going to do anything.”

 

“Leo--”

 

“No, listen, this is--- this is good. You don't get it but I _can't_ hurt him anymore, I can't do it,” he stresses the words out, looks her in the eyes in the hopes she could somehow understand how desperate he is. “This is the best option I have. I could make him happy.”

 

“But you would lie to him.”

 

“I love him, it's not a lie.”

 

“Leo don't play the idiot.”

 

Leo gets up, shaking his head. He knows, objectively, this isn't the most perfect beginning to a relationship, but this is the best one they have.

 

He turns to leave but Antonella's voice stops him before he can.

 

“Leo!” she shouts firmly. “You're running away. I don't know what the boy did to you, but back then you at least knew when to own up to your mistakes.”

 

Leo leaves, and before the door closes he thinks he can hear Antonella mutters _coward_. And she's probably not wrong but she doesn't know Neymar, she doesn't understand. Leo is already forgetting her warning words, putting everything in the back of his mind.

 

He needs to find Neymar, right this moment. He wants to see him and kiss him and tell him he loves him. He wants to do everything right, be the lover he should have been from the beginning. It won't matter what Antonella said – he doesn't remember it already – when they're still going out weeks, months, years from now. What Neymar doesn't know can't hurt him and the thought he'll never have to make Neymar sad again is so relieving Leo almost feels like crying.

 

 

–

 

 

Neymar is still in class when Leo reaches his dorm, and he has to wait for him close to an hour, alternating between pacing the corridor impatiently and sitting against the wall anxiously. He feels restless, excited and eager to get things working. It seems like something he can't postpone, because the sooner he'll start making things good, the better.

 

When Neymar finally arrives, Leo stands up like a shot, facing a puzzled-looking Neymar.

 

“Were you waiting for me?” Neymar suddenly looks slightly wary. “Why?”

 

Leo smiles widely to reassure him. “No reason in particular.” He nods to his door. “Can I come in?”

 

“Oh, sure,” Neymar says, realizing he has yet to open his door.

 

Once they're both in, Neymar turns towards him expectantly, but Leo doesn't give him the time to ask any more questions. He grabs his wait and pins him against the wall in one swift motion, before kissing him, swallowing the surprised yelp he earns for his efforts.

 

Neymar is quick to respond, dropping his bag and kissing back fiercely. His hands smothers down Leo's back, and Leo feels him smiling against his lips. He grabs Neymar's head with both hands to keep him from moving away, and he kisses him as deep as he can, as lovingly as he can.

 

“I love you,” he whispers against his lips, and Neymar stills against him.

 

Leo dives down his neck, nuzzling and sucking the skin. He always tried not to leave any marks on Neymar but now it's different, and he sucks hard on the skin, hard enough that even Neymar's brown skin won't be able to hide it. Neymar moans softly, sneaking his hands under his shirt to caress his back, his nails scratching slightly when Leo presses him even harder against the wall.

 

Neymar's smell is intoxicating, his skin is like silk and his mouth is so close to his ear he can hear every sighs, every moans, everyhitches of his breath.

 

“I love you so much Ney,” he repeats, and Neymar whimpers pitifully, grabbing his hair and forcing his head back to kiss him.

 

Leo lets his hands slip underneath Neymar's shirt, and this isn't a mistake, this isn't his brain going off and his subconscious taking over – he makes the decision to, he touches Neymar's skin, his cold fingers against Neymar's warm stomach and he feels him shiver under his touch. Neymar's muscles tense up wherever his fingers go, and he gasps into his mouth, his nails digging into the skin of his back.

 

It's something so new, to kiss Neymar like he means to, not to hold anything back. He wants to discover everything and kisses him until Neymar realizes how much he loves him, until Neymar forgets his pain and weariness, until Neymar feels loved and happy and Leo won't have any rest until he does.

 

Neymar starts pulling at his shirt a bit frantically, until Leo finally moves back to allow him to take it off. He means to go right back to kissing as soon as it's done, but Neymar doesn't let him, taking off his own shirt, revealing an expense of smooth brown skin and two hard nipples begging to be touched, and then he's pushing Leo, light taps on his chest to make him step back, until he hits the bed and Neymar pushes him down one final time to make him fall.

 

Neymar straddles his hips, and he doesn't waste any time going down his neck, trying to repay in kinds for the hickeys on his skin. Leo allows it for a while, but once Neymar seems satisfied with the mark he left, Leo flips him around, pins him down and that makes Neymar laugh airily, the sound loud and clear in the empty room.

 

“Is that it then?” Neymar asks in between kisses, a smile on his face. “Are we doing it?”

 

“If you want to,” Leo mumbles, and his hands find Neymar's nipples and rub the two buds gently between his fingertips.

 

Neymar moans openly. “Of course I want to, I've been wanting for 259 years.” He gasps. “I know, I counted.”

 

Leo smiles back at him and kisses his full lips, nibbling and sucking the flesh in, before mouthing along his jaw and softly biting his neck and cheeks and ears and every parts of his body he can reach.

 

Neymar gasps. “Are you feeding on me? Is that what old people do, feeding on the young?” Leo huffs loudly in his neck to tickle him with his breath, and that makes Neymar giggle. “I see your scheme now, you're trying to eat me alive.”

 

“Yes,” Leo hisses. “Yes, please.”

 

Neymar's eyes are clouded with lust, but there's an ever-present mirth underneath, and he looks plainly happy to have Leo there. Leo doesn't get why Neymar needs to be wanted so much, but Leo will make up for all the pain he caused him, and he'll give Neymar anything he wants.

 

Neymar reaches down for his crotch. “Should I act on all those offers I made you then?” he asks, as seductively as he can.

 

Leo bats his hands away. “No, let me. I'll make you feel good.”

 

Neymar flushes brightly, wriggling a bit under him, like he doesn't know very well how to contain his feelings without bursting. Leo bends down to kiss him sweetly, all over his face, all over his neck. He draws moans out of him and Leo feels peaceful, at last.

 

He stays true to his words that night – he makes Neymar feel good, pleasure him until he's shaking and breathless. It's perfect; Neymar is perfect, the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, the most beautiful person when he lays naked and blissful under him, giggling helplessly out of sheer happiness, his laughter broken by moans and whimpers, and when he doesn't have enough strength left to giggle, Neymar chants his name again and again and it's the best song Leo has ever heard.

 

He kisses the _I love yous_ from Neymar's mouth, eating them before he can get them out. Those aren't words he wants to hear, not words he's worthy of. He wants to shower Neymar with all the affection and love he can muster, without asking for anything in return.

 

There's a voice when he falls asleep – there is always a voice, sometimes his mom's, sometimes Masche's, sometimes his own – and it sounds like Antonella this time, but he can't hear what she says over the sound of Neymar breathing softly in his arms, wrapped around him like a human-shaped koala.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's actually quite interesting that in the comments of the last chapter, a few people wanted Leo to be honest with Neymar now that he knew he loved him, and others thought that since he loved Neymar, he should just be with him. It's basically the difference between Antonella and Leo here. Well I have to admit, I actually side with Antonella, which is why, predictably, drama there will still be.  
> Also, as you can see there will be no smut. I deliberately glossed over the scene, because smut wouldn't really fit in this story. It might have worked some chapters ago, but now that everything is so over-dramatic and emotional, explicit sex wouldn't have any point. Sorry for anyone it disappoints !  
> As for next chapter, it'll be a rather peaceful chapter. Nothing much happens except Leo enjoying life (mostly).


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. So um, as you noticed I couldn't update last Sunday. I'm busy and my laptop has issues, so that makes updating a bit diffficult, which is a shame considering this story will be over soon. Well I'll try my best!  
> In the meantime, here's the next chapter. As I say, it's mostly peaceful, so I hope you'll enjoy it!

Leo doesn't want to wake up. The bed is small and he feels over-heated and crowded but he also never slept that peacefully. There's Neymar's warm body right next to his, wounded around him because it's a single bed and there isn't much space to be found.

 

“Leo,” Neymar whispers, poking his face with a finger. “Leo wake up.”

 

Leo grumbles, and he worms deeper under the covers, holding Neymar closer in hopes it'll shut him up.

 

It doesn't.

 

“Wake up, your classes are starting soon.”

 

Leo grumbles again. He really doesn't want to get up but he already missed too many classes in the past few days. His grip on Neymar tightens for a second as he considers the pros and cons of staying in bed before his reason catch back up to him. He sighs and loses his hold, rolling over onto his back – as much as possible on a single-person bed. Parts of his back is off the bed and if he moves too much he thinks he might fall.

 

“I don't want to go,” he still protests, eyes closed.

 

“Hmm,” Neymar hums and adapts to Leo's new position, snuggling against him and murmuring into his skin. “You need to study and find a job to take care of me and our child.”

 

Leo tilts his head down to look at him, and he is met with one of Neymar's shit-eating grin.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I need to talk to you,” Neymar says, setting his facial features in a serious expression. “I think I'm pregnant.”

 

Leo's eyebrows rise up to his hairline, and there's a smile itching at the corner of his lips.

 

“I'm serious!” Neymar insists, not looking serious. He grimaces, holding his stomach as though sick. “I feel it inside.”

 

Leo snorts. “There's nothing inside.”

 

“Yes there is ! My stomach is full, it's full with your cu--”

 

Leo manages to get a hand on Neymar's mouth before he can say anything more, but the damage is already done and Leo feels a weird mixture of mortification and fondness well up inside him.

 

“Idiot,” he mutters, quietly enjoying the way Neymar's lips stretch against his palm and the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

 

At least Leo feels more awake now, what with the way Neymar's eyes shine in the dark room. He sighs and finally resolves to get up, groggily making his way to the bathroom. He's slow in the mornings and he's already halfway there by the time he realizes that he feels chilly and that he actually is completely naked. In fact, he only realizes because he hears giggle behind him, and he turns to around to see Neymar ogling him unabashedly. He hurries to the bathroom, a flush spreading over his body, Neymar giggling louder behind him.

 

When he exits the bathroom 15 minutes later, Neymar has taken over the whole bed, clutching the pillow to his chest. He seems to have fallen back asleep so Leo walks quietly up to him, and his heart beats fast with love as he watches Neymar sleep peacefully. Last night seems to be both a foggy dream and a vivid fantasy. He's starting something new, starting everything from scratch again, and he feels immensely positive about the future.

 

He bends down and kisses Neymar's cheek as softly as he can, and Neymar mumbles something incoherently in answer.

 

He leaves Neymar's room and his heart feels light, at last.

 

 

–

 

 

“Wow,” is the first thing Gerard says when he sees him. “ _Wow_.”

 

Leo rubs his neck shyly, self-conscious about the red bitemarks on his skin but still feeling paradoxically proud of them.

 

Geri openly stares and Masche frowns.

 

“I was with Neymar,” Leo mumbles. He keeps his voice low, both out of embarrassment and because the class is full and he doesn't want anyone to eavesdrop.

 

“Neymar?” Masche repeats quizzically. “Weren't you--” He doesn't finish, trailing off, but Leo still hear the words. _Depressed, distressed,_ _confused_ _?_

 

“It's complicated. It'll tell you at lunch,” he says as the teacher enters the room. Masche looks at him doubtfully, and Gerad--

 

“Stop staring Geri,” Leo hisses, because Gerard doesn't seem to have any interest in the conversation or the class, staring with a wide grin on his face at the bites and hickeys on Leo's neck.

 

When their classes end, Geri is hot on his trails, following him closely and waiting expectantly for his explanation. He hasn't stopped teasing him, glancing at his neck from time to time and waggling his eyebrows every time Leo looked his way.

 

Leo barely has the time to sit down before Geri asks, “So, Neymar.”

 

Geri doesn't even touch his meal, grinning at him instead. Masche dives into his salad but his eyes don't leave Leo's face.

 

“I've taken a decision, yesterday,” Leo announces. “I'm going to be Neymar's boyfriend.”

 

Masche frowns. “Isn't that what you're doing already? And it's not really working.”

 

“No I'm not-- I don't want him to break up with me anymore. I'm going to be his boyfriend, _for real_.”

 

Masche considers him for a moment. “I'm not sure it's very fair to Neymar.”

 

“I know. but-- it's the only thing I can do. It's the best solution, isn't it? I saw him yesterday, and I'm convinced-- I know I can make this work. I can make this better, for the both of us.”

 

Masche opens his mouth but Geri interrupts him. “Oh don't be an old man Masche. It's a good idea if you ask me-” _not a good argument_ , Masche mutters but Geri's voice covers his. “Two months of angst is two months too many.” His smile softens, and the mischief disappears from his eyes to make way for affection instead. “As long as you're happy, I'm on board with whatever.”

 

Leo smiles back at him. Masche sighs deeply and relents, “I don't fully agree with your decision, but I agree with that idiot there. This whole affair has affected you too much already, and as long as it ends, I'm fine with it.”

 

Leo smiles at him too but Masche is already back to digging into his salad. Masche is and has always been a good friend, although he's a bit rough around the edges.

 

“You even got laid, you sneaky bastard!” Gerard exclaims, signaling the end of the conversation and the start of a full hour of endless teasing on Gerard's part.

 

Geri makes many dirty jokes but at the very least, by the time lunch is over Leo is so red the hickeys are less visible.

 

 

–

 

 

It's, all things considered, the best week of Leo's life.

 

That might be an exaggeration, but in comparison with the months prior, this week he spends not worrying about how he's going to deal with Neymar, just going along with everything and kissing Neymar whenever they're together and not trying to be an asshole – he feels free and light and peaceful. He sees Neymar smile everyday and he goes to sleep looking forward to the next day.

 

He's currently playing games with Neymar, and Neymar has taken over his lap, his head laying on his thighs. Neymar is cuddly, more so than before – but then again Leo does see him more often than before.

 

Leo loses and Neymar laughs at him, so Leo pinches his ear. Once satisfied with the yelp he earns, he allows his hand to stay there, rubbing Neymar's earlobe. Neymar starts giggling again.

 

“You seem very relaxed these days,” he says. “Your classes are going fine?”

 

“Not more so than before,” Leo mumbles, looking down at the side of Neymar's face, trailing his fingers against his cheek and trying to count the acne scars there.

 

“Hmm.” Neymar's eyes are focused on the screen but the wide grin on his face is meant for him. “I've been thinking. About why you're so chill now.”

 

Leo frowns. “There's no particular reason,” he says, because there isn't any reason _Neymar_ should be privy too.

 

Neymar shakes his head and pauses the game to look up at him. “No but, you've been like that since last Tuesday. Since we fucked. Do you know what that mean?”

 

“… No?”

 

Neymar sits up excitedly. “That my ass is magical !” he says with shining eyes and pride seeping all over from his every pores and Leo is dumbfounded for a second before he bursts out laughing.

 

“Don't laugh I'm serious !” Neymar protests. “My ass has powers. It's magical, come on !”

 

Leo laughs harder, shaking his head at how ridiculous Neymar is, but that only prompts Neymar to press harder. He crowds up into his personal space, gripping his arm and thigh as though intending to physically stop him from laughing. There is a small smile on Neymar's face and Leo thinks he doesn't mind his laughter all that much. Still, Neymar bends down and bites on his ear playfully.

 

“Hey,” Leo pushes him softly. “You don't have powers. Even if you did, that would be a very lame power.”

 

“You're too narrow-minded,” Neymar scoffs.

 

“Let's say your ass is magical,” Leo says, playing along even though it's hard repressing the smile that's threatening to split his face in two. “What exactly are you going to do with the power of relaxing people? There's no use to it.”

 

Neymar snorts. “Isn't that obvious?” He leans over, hovering over him in a menacing way. “I will chill the fuck out of you.”

 

Leo bites his lips not to laugh, shaking his head in disbelief instead.

 

Neymar goes on. “You're gonna be so relaxed you won't feel yourself shit anymore.”

 

“Ew Ney.” Leo makes a face, drawing away from Neymar and Neymar laughs out loud, proud of himself. He attemps to crowd up his space again, making kissy faces at him.

 

“No don't bother,” Leo says. “I've lost all my libido.”

 

Neymar laughs even harder at that, and since Leo refuses him access to his lips he settles on nuzzling his neck instead.

 

Neymar is like an over-grown puppy and Leo can swear he sees a tail wagging behind him every time they're together. There's a smile on Neymar's face and it doesn't ever leave and Leo hopes it never does.

 

 

–

 

 

It's not a party, just a night out between friends. There are Gerard and Masche and Leo, and Neymar because he wanted to tag along, and Leo wanted him to tag along, too.

 

There's no real reason for it, at least not officially. Saturday night Gerard takes them to a bar to celebrate a grade he doesn't care about, and Leo knows they're celebrating the end of his trouble, weeks of Leo acting like an asshole until he actually became one. Leo feels happy and joyous enough that the outing is welcome for once, and he laughs goodheartedly at Gerard's and Neymar's antics. The two get along fine, and Leo can see them becoming good friends, and it's such a pleasant thought, to have your boyfriend befriend your best friend.

 

Boyfriend. _Boyfriend_.

 

Previously, the word made Leo cringe, yet tonight it makes him warm and content. The word finally fits, it's finally appropriate. Neymar is his _boyfriend_. Neymar asks for two straws for one drink so he can share it with Leo and insists they drink while looking into each other's eyes. Neymar tells the bartender they're together when he gives them a weird look and Leo flushes bright red and nods imperceptibly and he ignores Geri's booming laughter in favor of Neymar's maddeningly bright smile.

 

Leo has never known someone that could mortify him and pacify him at the same time.

 

It's a fun night – at least Neymar has lots of fun, laughing loudly and joking around with Geri. Leo watches Neymar laugh more often than not. The mood is so peaceful it's almost surreal, that barely two weeks ago he was locked up in his room, and now he's there and he's making Neymar happy ( _hopefully_ ).

 

Everything fits in, somehow.

 

By the end of the night, Neymar is slightly wasted, and he leans heavily on him when they walk back home. Leo doesn't mind, he slings an arm around Neymar's waist and supports his weight, and he listens to Neymar sing horrible love songs on the way home. He dedicates all of the songs to Leo, and Leo is still torn between mortification, amusement and fondness.

 

Leo brings him to his room, dropping Neymar unceremoniously on his bed. Neymar giggles, moving to curl in the middle of the bed.

 

“Wait here,” Leo says, grabbing both his ankles. “Your shoes are dirty,” he admonishes, dragging Neymar back a few inches to untie his laces and take his sneakers off.

 

Neymar puts up a struggle, vainly trying to launch himself up the bed but in this state he's no match for Leo. When Leo is done taking his shoes off and lets him go, Neymar wriggles up quickly, spreading out on his bed.

 

“Why is your bed bigger than mine,” he slurs, bemoaning as he rolls from one side to another. “Mine's a single bed, it feels so lonely.”

 

“Sportsman privilege,” Leo answers, setting on taking the rest of Neymar's clothes off.

 

Neymar seems to take this as a game, giggling as he tries to escape Leo's hands. That makes Leo's job way harder than it should be, and Leo dearly hopes Neymar won't be that restless during the night because he does intend to catch a full night of sleep.

 

It takes several minutes but eventually, Leo manages to get Neymar in nothing but his underwear, pulling the covers from under his body and Neymar immediately sneaks under them with a happy sigh. Leo tucks him in, afraid Neymar will roll over and fall in the state he's in.

 

He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and put his pajamas on, and there's Neymar's distressed voice calling after him.

 

“Where are you going? Are you gonna sleep in the bathtub? Come back!” and then Leo watches from the doorway as Neymar tries to get out of the bed. Leo tucked him in tightly, and Neymar vainly struggles to escape his coffin. The sight of Neymar fighting against bedsheets is a funny one, and Leo has to muffle a laugh, darting away to the bathroom despite Neymar's anguished cries.

 

When he enters the room again, Neymar's sideways in the middle of the bed, seemingly tired of fighting and Leo smiles fondly at him. He climbs onto the bed, trying not to move around too much. He needs to work around Neymar's body, laying uselessly in the middle of the bed.

 

Leo allows himself to plaster over Neymar's back, pressing his nose against his nape to smell into the scent of bubble gum, alcohol and expensive cologne. Neymar's head is smashed against the pillow and Leo can barely make out his next sentence.

 

“I'm so glad my ass has magical powers,” he mumbles.

 

Leo snorts, but his heart aches. If Neymar can see the difference between then and now, so much so that he's glad for the change, it makes him wonder how Neymar felt before, with Leo being hot and cold all over him. Amidst the guilt, Leo resolves to keep up like that, to do things right until Neymar's happy in his own right.

 

He presses an affectionate kiss against Neymar's nape. “Sleep now.”

 

“Hm. Do that again,” Neymar demands weakly, so Leo does, pressing another kiss on his nape, and then another. Neymar sighs happily. “You're so nice to me,” he mumbles sleepily.

 

“No,” Leo whispers, so low he isn't sure Neymar can hear. “Not yet.”

 

_Not yet_ , he thinks, but he will be.

 

 

–

 

 

Leo knocks on Neymar's door, not waiting for an answer before coming in. Neymar hardly waits for one himself – actually he's most likely to just burst into his room with no regard to Leo's intimacy, and Leo is learning not to hang around naked in his room.

 

“Hey Ney,” he calls, a smile on his lips as he enters his room.

 

He expects to find Neymar alone, ready to greet him with an eager smile on his face, but instead he finds him with a girl whose face he cannot see. She has long back hair and she's taller than Neymar with her heels.

 

They both turn towards him. Neymar looks greenish, and the girl – that's a girl he's never been friends with but who he knows very well : Daniella, Antonella's best friend.

 

Leo frowns. “What are you doing here?” he asks, puzzled.

 

Daniella only spares him a glance before turning back to Neymar.

 

“I'm not lying,” she says. “Ask him, you'll see.”

 

“That's bullshit,” Neymar mutters, but he looks hesitant, looking back and forth between Daniella and Leo, and he still looks sick and Leo has a bad feeling about this.

 

“I'll ask him then,” Daniella says, and she turns to him, a sweet smile on her face and a furious look in her eyes. “So Leo. Have you grown the guts to tell your boyfriend he's not actually your boyfriend yet?”

 

Leo feels his body grow cold because there aren't many things she could be talking about, but she shouldn't know about that, there's no way for her to know, no way--

 

“Maybe not,” Daniella goes on. “Your boy here has trouble believing your texts were meant for Anto and that you've been trying to break up with him all this time. You're really good at faking love, aren't you, Leo?”

 

“How do you kn--” Leo starts and he cuts himself shortbut it's already too late.

 

_How do you know_ , and that's as much confirmation as Neymar needs. Leo's eyes widen when he realizes his mistake, snapping to Neymar's face just in time too see the blood drains from his face.

 

Leo is distantly aware of Daniella talking but he doesn't hear her, focused on Neymar and the emotions flashing in his eyes. Their eyes are locked and Neymar's frozen on the spot, paler than Leo has ever seen him, paler than Leo himself. His heart is beating so fast he thinks it's going to explode and he wants to run away, get out of the room and erase the tape because this can't be anything but a bad movie.

 

Neymar is the one who breaks eye-contact, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as though he's about to throw up. His hand is trembling.

 

“Hey,” Daniella talks to Neymar softly, putting a gentle hand on his forearm. Leo doesn't hear what she whispers to him next, words of comfort it seems and it angers Leo because comfort, _comfort_ when she's the one breaking him.

 

Neymar closes his eyes painfully at whatever she says, and his hands are shaking so bad, his skin is so white he looks like a ghost.

 

“Ney--” Leo calls out pitifully. He needs to do something, _right now_ , he needs to explain himself, but he's rooted in place, watching his downfall like it's a movie with the worst plot he's ever seen and Leo wants hismoney back.

 

Neymar's eyes flash open at Leo's voice, and he looks at him and-- and Neymar looks distressed like he never did before, pale like death and green with sickness, face contorted in pain and he looks so _hurt_ that Leo wants to cry.

 

It wasn't supposed to happen like that. Damn it, _it wasn't supposed to happen like that_.

 

Leo finds the courage to move, a step forward, and that spurs Neymar into action too.

 

“No,” he says, voice shaky, taking a step back even though they're already so far away from each other and Leo needs to touch him and hug him and smother him with love until Neymar forgets everything bad.

 

“I can explain Ney--”

 

“No, no,” Neymar repeats, shaking his head, and his voice is high-pitched and broken ; he sounds on the verge of tears.

 

“Ney-”

 

“No!” Neymar shouts, almost screeching, and there they are, the tears, falling from wide incredulous eyes. The pain, immense and overwhelming, get masked by a thin, fragile anger, enough for Neymar to repeat, “ _no,_ ” in a harsher voice.

 

He shakes off Daniella's hand and rushes to the door, side-stepping Leo's outstretched hand.

 

Leo stays in place, mouth open, listening to the door slam shut and he can't move. He'd cry if he could, but he feels dumb and numb and dead.

 

Daniella moves and that brings him back to earth, drawing Leo's focus to her and suddenly he's angry, so immensely angry and he glares at her with everything he has.

 

“Why did you do that?!” he shouts, fists clenched by his sides, because it' easier, so much easier to be angry than to think about Neymar running away.

 

“What, you thought you could get away with it?” Daniella replies sarcastically. “Anto may be nice enough to forgive you but I'm not. You fucked her up; you really think I would let you be happy and have your ways with someone else? Men like you, they don't deserve anything less than that,” she spits at him.

 

Leo feels himself shaking with rage. “You're so-- It's not me you're hurting, it's him!”

 

“Oh, I am definitely hurting you too. And Anto's right anyway – poor boy, you were playing with him.”

 

“I'm--” Leo's anger spreads through his whole body like a disease and he wants to, wants to hurt her as much as he's hurting now, as much as Neymar is hurting now. For an irrational moment, he wants her to drop dead, and he has to repress the urge to actually hit her. Instead he clenches his hands tighter, until his nails dig into his skin and blood trickles between his fingers and runs down his closed fists. He clenches his jaw just as tight and as he shakes with anger and despair, he wonders if all his teeth are going to shatter.

 

Daniella scoffs. “What? Angry? Be angry at your own goddamn self Leo,” Daniella says, looking down at him, perched on her high heels. “You had it coming for a long time.”

 

And with that she's gone, storming out furiously like only she can, leaving Leo alone with his anger and anguish.

 

He's in Neymar's room and it smells like bubble-gum and the walls are filled with happy pictures and Neymar ran out looking like he wanted to disappear.

 

Leo kicks a chair, hard enough to bruise his toes, and he screams out loud, a desperate cry to let his frustration out, and he doesn't care if people hear him. It doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore. He might have ruined Neymar and if he did then--

 

If he did then he might as well have ruined himself too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm you know. Last two chapters were a bit of a break because now we're heading back into angst territory. Also well, I'm not delusional enough to believe no one will dislike Daniella, but I personnaly don't think she's a bad person. She's unforgiving and overprotective, but that's her personality. Actually now that I think about it, think of Daniella as tumblr and you'd have a pretty good grasp on her character, ha!  
> That said, next chapter will, predictably, deal with Leo trying to talk to Neymar.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, and sorry for the delay. I still have laptop troubles, and I'm a bit busy, so I can't really determine when I'll be able to update anymore. A shame really, because this story is almost over.  
> Anyway, this chapter is uh, lots of conversations. And angst. Enjoy?

“He didn't attend any of his classes,” Leo says, his voice shaky and panicked. “Masche I have no idea where he is.”

 

He frets, pacing the room uselessly. He's been there since yesterday, in Neymar's room with the pictures and the clothes thrown everywhere. He doesn't know how long he'd stood there, fists clenched by his sides, his heart beating like it was trying to escape but his body numb to the feeling. At least long enough for the blood running down his hands to dry and for his nails to be painfully stuck into his flesh where they'd dug in.

 

As soon as the numbness passed, he'd been frantic, and he's been frantic ever since. He'd tried everything – calling Neymar, texting him, calling his friends, but he received no answer. He'd briefly considered bothering Neymar in his room except – except that's where he was, in Neymar's room, and he'd stayed there the previous night in hopes of Neymar coming back here. Where else would he go?

 

“I asked his classmates, no one has seen him, and he turned off his phone now – I end up on his voicemail now. I don't-- I need to know he's fine,” Leo says, an edge to his voice.

 

“Ok, calm down alright?”

 

“Calm down?” Leo hisses. “How the fuck do you want me to-”

 

“Leo.” Masche calls his name in an authoritative voice, like he's ordering him to shut up. “Calm down. You're panicking and you're not thinking straight. Stay in his room, try to calm down, think rationally about where he could be, and me and Geri will try to locate him.”

 

“I can't do nothing,” Leo protests, because he can't imagine staying idle when he has no idea where Neymar might be. He needs to see him and explain everything to him and tell him it was all a mistake, but most of all he needs to make sure Neymar's fine and that he's safe.

 

“You're not going to do nothing.” Masche's voice is calm, appeasing. “You'll be more useful if you calm down, so that's what you're going to do. You're also going to wait there in case he comes back.” Leo still wants to argue, but Masche's voice softens, dropping the assertive tone. “Trust us alright? This is something we can do for you; I swear we'll find him.”

 

Leo's heart is beating in his throat and his stomach is empty but he tastes acid at the back of his throat and he feels like he'll throw up if he opens his mouth too wide. He can't stay idle but he can't think straight either, and under these circumstances he doesn't have another option than to hang onto Masche's reason because he has none left on his own.

 

“Ok,” he says quietly, and he hears Masche heave a sigh of relief.

 

Leo does as he's told. He stays in Neymar's room, wanders aimlessly in the small space as though there's any clue to be found there. He feels bad for so many different reason he doesn't even know what to start crying for. There's the guilt, ever present, eating away at his organs and it that has so many causes but it doesn't really matter when he's left numb and panicked. There's a desperate need to explain everything to Neymar, to say he loves him, to make sure he doesn't cry. He can't imagine what he's feeling right now, and he doesn't want to, but his mind is clear enough to know Neymar can't be anything less than heartbroken. He just hopes it's only his heart that's broken because he doesn't want to see him in pieces.

 

Above all, Leo needs to see Neymar to make sure he's fine.

 

But Neymar isn't there, and Leo is, and that feels wrong. He stays up the whole night, he doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, attentive to every sounds. Neymar could come back and see him and run back out. Leo can't afford to fall asleep. It's not like his mind would let him rest anyway.

 

Thursday comes around and Neymar is still nowhere to be found.

 

 

–

 

 

The day after, Leo decides he'll camp in Neymar's room until he comes back. He's bound to come back. He's bound to attend his classes again. He's bound to.

 

It's only been a day since Masche promised to help but he still hasn't called Leo back and Leo is on the verge of ignoring his promise and freely freaking out all over campus if needs be. He doesn't think he can take any more day like that. He's worried shitless for Neymar, scared of something he refuses to name.

 

Geri stands in the room with him, arms crossed over his chest, frowning.

 

“Ok,” he finally says. “But if you're going to camp there, you at least need to bring some clothes.”

 

Leo huffs. He's been wearing the same clothes and underwear for the last three days, but he has no intention of going out so he fails to see how that's an issue.

 

“What's the point?”

 

“The point is,” Gerard says loudly, and then pauses. He seems to think about his next words for a while, but then a small smile take over his lips. “Even though Neymar likes shiny things, your hair doesn't fall under the category of shiny things that can make him come back.”

 

Leo startles, looking bewildered at Gerard. “Are you trying to say my hair is greasy?”

 

“Not what I said but now that's you're bringing this up-” Geri trails off with a wide grin on his face. He moves behind Leo to force him to walk towards the door.

 

There's no discussing with Gerard if he intends to manhandle him somewhere, so Leo lets himself be pushed around in the corridors. Yet, there's a ball of anxiety that grows in his stomach with every new steps.

 

“But what if he comes back _now_?”

 

“If he comes back now, he'll probably stay a bit right? We'll go back there right after I promise.”

 

His friends are making a lot of small promises these days, and Leo feels like a small child seeking comfort for everything. He wishes he could find enough reason in himself not to need reassurance, but with Neymar gone he's nothing more than sensitive nerves and a beating heart.

 

They're reaching Leo's room, Geri still strategically behind him to make sure he won't escape, when Leo notices someone knocking on his door. The person has long brown hair and Leo recognizes them instantly.

 

“What are you doing there, Antonella?”

 

Antonella startles back at the sound of his voice, turning towards him.

 

“Leo,” she greets him. Her eyes drift up to Gerard' hovering form. “Gerard,” she says to acknowledge his presence before looking back down at him. “I wanted to talk to you actually.”

 

“Is it about Daniella?” Leo says, and he can't stop his annoyance from surfacing in his voice, almost hissing with renewed anger. He can deal with anger so much better than he can deal with panic.

 

Antonella must understand his tone because her posture changes, and she looks wary.

 

“Yes it is. I want to apologize for what she did.”

 

Leo feels his body thrumming. Several days, and it's the first time he has an outlet to let go of some of his feelings and he knows he shouldn't be as angry as he is but he needs to let go of _something_.

 

“What about what _you_ did?”

 

“What I did? I didn't do anything. I didn't ask her anything; she just did what she thought was right.”

 

“Well her sense of right and wrong is fucked up then.”

 

Antonella starts clearly frowning now. “Listen Leo, I don't think you get what I'm saying. I'm sorry she did it, because I think _you_ should have been the one to tell your boyfriend the truth. It may not have been her place to do it but that's still _your_ own mess you're into right now.”

 

“My own-- If she hadn't said anything, Neymar would never have known and he'd be fine right now!”

 

“Great,” Antonella stares at him incredulously. “He would have spent his whole life a fool. But it's Daniella's sense of right and wrong that's fucked up right?”

 

Leo recoils, but his fists clench in anger. The thing is, Antonella is right; at the end of the day everything is and will always be his fault. He did enough wrong that someone's else mistake is meaningless, in the long run. He knows Daniella had reasons to act, he knows there's only one person to be angry at and it's himself but he still tries to hang onto someone's else'sculpability for once.

 

“Regardless, you shouldn't have told her anything. That was supposed to stay between you and me,” he says, and really that's the only thing he can reproach her at this point.

 

“Don't give me that! I know you're all about internalizing your feelings, but people usually need to talk to be better. You thought I could handle everything you told me on my own? I mean, look how well that worked for you,” she says sarcastically, and she looks him up and down with either sympathy or pity, Leo cannot tell, but it's enough to make his shoulders sag.

 

The conclusion is: Leo is the asshole of this story, and it's a conclusion he's getting used to.

 

Antonella sighs, and she looks sympathetic. “I'm sorry this is how it happens and that this is affecting you so bad. But that's your chance Leo, to make things right.” She waits for his answer and when none come, she simply says, “I'll be going now. Take care,” and with that she's gone.

 

Leo is silent as he watches her go. She doesn't look back once; she has the steady and assured walk of someone who lives right by their own morals. Leo wonders how he manages to surround himself with people that are always so much better than him.

 

“Well,” Geri's deep voice booms next to his ear and Leo jumps, having forgotten about his presence. “That sure was dramatic,” he says, looking down and smiling. The smile doesn't reach his eyes and he can tell Gerard is just trying to dissipate the tense atmosphere.

 

Leo shakes his head to get rid of his negative thoughts and go back to his goal of cleaning up as fast as possible so he can go back to Neymar's room. But before he can enter his room, his phone rings, the discreet ring-tone muffled in his pocket. When Leo reads the name on the screen, he takes the call faster than ever in his life.

 

“Masche? Do you know something?” he talks quickly, barely making an effort to articulate his words.

 

“I do. Apparently, he's been staying with Dani for the last few days. He's fine.”

 

The relief that washes over Leo is so strong he feels himself sway. Geri takes a subtle step forward and Leo leans back against his torso for support.

 

“He's fine,” he repeats.

 

Looking back, that's where he should have looked first – his friends, but Leo had been so convinced that Neymar would be so hurt that he'd stay on his own, that it hadn't even brushed his mind that he might have had the good idea to actually seek the comfort of his friends. Even though he hadn't dared think about it, parts of him had been afraid that Neymar would be careless with his safety, that he'd cross a street without looking, that he'd forgot to turn off the gas, or even worse, that's he'd hurt himself on purpose.

 

He only allows himself to think about it now, all those images, repressed in the last few days, flooding his brain and blinding him with horror, until he feels his legs go even weaker, and he has to lean harder against Geri's solid frame.

 

“Leo?” Masche's voice calls. “Are you listening?”

 

“Yeah I'm, I'm there,” Leo answers, voice faint. “Do you have the address?”

 

“Of course I do. I'll text it to you. Are you fine?”

 

“Yes,” Leo says, and it's the truth but it's also a blatant lie. “Thanks,” he says nonetheless. “I couldn't ask for a better friend.”

 

“No problem. You know I'm there if you need me.” And then Masche hangs up with a quick _see you_.

 

Leo closes his eyes, leaning against Gerard for the time being as he tries to gather his wits. Finally, he takes a deep breath in and opens them, standing up on his own again.

 

He walks in the direction they came from, intending to go to Dani right this moment; but Geri steps in his way, stopping him.

 

“Wow there where are you going?”

 

“Isn't that obvious?” Leo looks up at him, annoyed. “I'm going to see Neymar.”

 

“Nope, not now.”

 

Leo opens his mouth to protest but Gerard grabs his shoulders to spin him around, and he pushes him back towards the door.

 

“You'll go tomorrow. If he's with his friend I doubt he'll move anytime soon, so for now you're going to wash up, change your clothes and catch some sleep. I'll guarantee you'll be better at talking if you sleep a bit.”

 

“I don't--”

 

“No for real. You've always made a point of mumbling but right now it's defying expectations; I can barely make out the words you say. Sleep will do your tongue some good.”

 

Leo frowns but he lets himself be stirred forward. He doesn't want to wait but Geri is right. He speaks of sleep and Leo's heart still beats too fast with anxiety and guilt, but the relief that washed over was so intense that he feels physically weak. Sleep seems appealing, for once.

 

 

–

 

 

Leo is ready to go to Dani's as soon as he's up the day after, but Gerard slept over and he's there to remind him that there's a silent rule under which college student shall not bother each other before noon.

 

Leo has trouble waiting that long. He's up and buzzing with energy, buzzing with impatience and eagerness and the irrational need to seek Neymar out _right_ _now_. It's an itch like a scar under his skin, and he wants to scratch himself all over to make the itch go.

 

When Gerard finally lets him go, he walks as fast as he can to Dani's place. The walk there is a blur, and by the time he reaches the building, there is sweat forming on his forehead. He knocks on the door nervously, rubbing his clammy palms against his jeans.

 

The door opens and Dani stands in the doorway.

 

Somehow, despite it being his place, Leo hadn't considered the fact that he might be the one to open the door.

 

“Uh,” he says awkwardly as a form of greeting. “Is Neymar there? I'd like to t-”

 

“No,” comes Dani's flat answer.

 

Leo frowns. “No?” he repeats.

 

“Neymar isn't there.”

 

Leo looks at Dani and the way his eyes are gauging him, and he knows he's being lied to. He drops his awkward stance and straightens up a bit. “I know he's there”, he says firmly, because _Masche_ wouldn't have given him wrong information.

 

Dani scoffs. “Well what if he is, what do yo want?”

 

“I want to talk to him.”

 

“Good for you, but no.”

 

Leo stares at Dani, trying to make sense of his refusal. He hadn't expected he might be denied access, that there would be someone putting a physical barrier between him and Neymar.

 

“I need to talk to him,” he repeats, just in case Dani misheard him. “You don't get it I-”

 

“I know perfectly well why you're here and believe that doesn't make me want to let you in in the slightest,” Dani says, annoyance and anger written all over his features.

 

“You can't--” Leo stares at the door, and Neymar is there, just there, he's so _close_. He needs to talk to him and frustration is  taking over his body once again. “That's not up to you, you can't stop me from seeing him.”

 

“I can, I am and I will,” Dani says, and he takes a step towards him. “I've kept myself from meddling and now here we are. I'm not letting you make it worse now.”

 

“That's your own problem,” Leo bites out, frustrated. “You should have done something earlier, but you can't keep me from talking to him.”

 

“I can. You said it yourself once, ' _if I_ _apologize_ _he might forgive m_ _e'_. Well I'm not taking any chance.”

 

“This isn't about-” Dani looks determined and inflexible and Leo's frustration is morphing into anger. “Fuck, let me in, you don't get it--”

 

Before Leo has the time to react, Dani grips his collar and slams him into the wall behind him, face inches close from his and he looks furious.

 

“You're the one who doesn't get it.” Dani snarls into his face, and Leo feels his breath on his face. He glares back, his instinct and anger taking over as he meets Dani's eyes straight on. “He came to me in tears, and he hasn't stopped crying since then. He's cried himself to sleep every night and he looks absolutely terrible. He doesn't sleep or laugh or smile or look me in the eyes and all his anger is half-formed, incomplete and tainted by _despair_. I am not letting you near him, not now and not ever again,” Dani hisses, his voice shaking with anger and his fists trembling with restraint where they're clutching Leo's shirt.

 

Leo tries to hold them back but they're flooding him, the images of Neymar crying. He tries to put them all in the back of his mind, not to make his will falter. He's convinced now more than ever that he needs to see Neymar, he needs to explain and apologize, he _can't_ not do it. The door is just there and if Leo doesn't seem him his heart might just stop beating.

 

“Let me talk to him,” he says, his voice dark and determined, because he can't be weak now. Even if Dani's anger is justified – and God knows it is – Leo can't let him stay between him and that goddamn door.

 

“Fuck you,” is Dani's only answer, snarled in his face.

 

His grip tightens on his collar and Leo tilts his head back, staring him straight in the eyes, provocative. He's dealt with men twice his size on the pitch and he isn't scared of anyone, not anyone that tries to keep him from his goals.

 

“You have no idea how much I want to hit your right now,” Dani says with restrained anger.

 

“Well why don't you?” Leo says, the same provocative tone and look in his eyes, but in his head the images of Neymar crying are swirling and Leo wouldn't mind the hits, he wouldn't mind it at all.

 

_(He'd embrace them, he'd pretend to fight back and goad Dani on, and he'd take comfort in the hits raining down on him, he'd take comfort in the pain as though it could absolve him of his faults)_

 

Dani studies his face for a few lengthy seconds, and Leo feels ecstatic and eager, waiting for the punches.

 

“No,” Dani finally says, and his shoulders drop, his grip relaxing. He takes a step back, letting go of him and Leo staggers for a second before righting himself. He looks at Dani puzzled.

 

“No,” Dani repeats, shaking his head.“You'd like that too much.”

 

Leo stares incredulously. Dani's backing away and he feels cold and vulnerable.

 

Dani's eyes fix him with nothing but disgust. “I'm not helping you feel better,” he says. “You'll have to deal with the guilt on your own.”

 

And he turns around and enters his flat again, slamming the door shut behind him. Leo stands frozen, numb, and he thinks this might be the cruelest thing Dani could have done. He wonders how a stranger can read him so well when Leo has never been one to broadcast his feelings on his face.

 

_Guilt_ , guilt is the issue, guilt is the mold that's rotting his every bones, and he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore.

 

 

–

 

 

After that, Leo isn't sure what to do, so nothing really changes.

 

He pretends not to have seen the determination in Dani's eyes, he pretends not to know how useless his efforts are, he pretends not to hate himself. He keeps texting Neymar, calling Dani, dropping by his dorm room just in case and he goes to Dani's flat several times more but the door never opens. He feels like a stalker, he feels bad and obsessive, but he has no idea what to do.

 

If he stops, if he gives up and acknowledges the fact that there's nothing to be done, that he'll never talk to Neymar again, then everything is over. Then he'll have to deal with the fact that Neymar is heartbroken, and he remembers how his shitty actions affected Antonella and he doesn't dare imagine how bad it could affect Neymar.

 

He isn't sure what to do but he knows what he wants – he wants Neymar to be fine. He thinks of Dani's words and he can't sleep at night. The thought of Neymar hurting causes him physical pain, because Leo loves him and nobody wants to see their loved one hurting. If Neymar is sad then Leo wants it to end, he wants to find whoever made him sad and make them regret it – except he's the one who made him sad and he has to fight against the urge to smash his head into a mirror. He's already regretting it anyway.

 

He wants Neymar happy, and he isn't sure whether it's a selfless urge, or a selfish one.

 

He drops by several times during the next week, to knock on Dani's door in the vain hopes it will open, in the vain hopes his non-eloquent self will have finally find it some convincing argument.

 

A stalker, he feels like a stalker, and he can't stop and he's so bad, but if he never talks to Neymar then how will Neymar know that Leo does love him? How will he know that Leo didn't lie about everything? How will he know that Leo didn't intend to play with his heart? Leo doesn't care what Neymar does with that knowledge, he just wants him to know.

 

One such day, he goes to Dani's flat. He only knocks once, because he already knows the door won't open, but he's still there trying. One knock, a soft knock, barely audible, and then he sighs and turns around.

 

The door opens.

 

Leo's reflexes are faster than his brain, and his body turns on its own will to face the door, and here in the doorway stands Neymar. Their eyes meet for a moment and Neymar looks surprised, and then his eyes widen and he tries to close the door, but Leo holds it open.

 

“Wait, Neymar.”

 

Neymar pushes back against the door but Leo's already halfway in, and Neymar is weaker than him.

 

“Let me talk to you, please.”

 

“I don't want to talk to you”, Neymar says, not meeting his eyes, pushing vainly against the door. His voice is hoarse and broken, as though he either spent too much time silent, or too much time crying. Leo doesn't know which option he'd like more.

 

“Then let me talk at you. I can-- I have things to say.”

 

“Well, you should have said them earlier!” Neymar almost yells, but his voice breaks and it sounds like a screech. He stops pushing back and starts taking deep breaths in instead, visibly fighting against the tremors of his body.

 

He still won't meet his eyes, and Leo has all the time in the world to stare at his prostrate form, at his skinny body – it's always been skinny but it looks sick now, and Leo doesn't know whether his mind is playing tricks on him or if Neymar did lose weight in the last two weeks. There are dark circles under Neymar's eyes and his hair changed too – it's natural, little curls on the top of his head and growing on the sides, as though Neymar couldn't be bothered to take care of his hair. He holds himself like he's ashamed, or like he wishes to be little, but his fists are clenched in some parody of anger, because Neymar's posture screams nothing but anguish.

 

And he still won't meet his eyes.

 

“You look terrible,” Leo blurts before he can think twice about it.

 

Neymar's eyes snap to his face in disbelief, and Leo wishes he hadn't because there's agony in there and Leo feels his resolve crumbling.

 

Neymar studies his face quickly before looking behind his head at the wall. “Same to you.”

 

“Ney, listen-”

 

“No,” Neymar cuts him off. “No I don't want to listen to you.” He says like he's angry and determined, but his voices shakes and oscillates between high and croaky. He looks like he's about to cry.

 

“I'm sorry,” Leo says as genuinely as he can, and Neymar doesn't answer. He stares at the ceiling now, to keep the tears from falling. “I never meant to hurt you.”

 

A short, hysteric laugh leaves Neymar's mouth before his eyes drop to the ground and the tears flow freely, but he doesn't answer either. It's weird. One minute he tries to fake anger, the other he's silent, the other he's crying. Neymar doesn't seem to know what he should do with himself.

 

“I can tell you everything.”

 

“I already know everything. That girl told me.”

 

“But she doesn't really know, she thinks I was fooling you but--”

 

“Weren't you?” Neymar probes, and he still sounds on the verge of hysteria.

 

Leo takes some time to answer. “I was. But there's more to it than that.”

 

“So what are you going to explain to me? That you thought I was pitiful, me, that young guy so in love with you sending you all these messages? That you went out with me because of _pity_ , is that what you're going to say?” The tears flow from Neymar's eyes and it looks like his words hurt him but he doesn't stop. “That you thought it would be fun to see how deep I could go? Was it fun? Was it rewarding? Like a charity-project – look at the kid, he'd madly in love with me, let me give him a taste to be charitable!”

 

“No, no,” Leo denies, and he can barely articulates words, his throat clogged by the urge to cry. “It wasn't like that.”

 

“Then, then is it-- maybe I'm the one misunderstanding? Maybe you've told me from the start it was all a game to you, but I'm too simple-minded to understand, right?”

 

“I love you--”, Leo cuts in, desperately.

 

“Well if you loved me you'd have told me sooner!” Neymar screams, his eyes full of pain and anguish.

 

“I couldn't. I couldn't, you'd have been too sad.”

 

“You don't know that! And even then, that's my feelings, I feel however I want! Did you think I wasn't smart enough to understand? I'm a dumb, superficial boy after all, I wouldn't get it, would I.”

 

“Stop-” Leo wants him to stop, because Neymar's words aren't directed at him but at himself, because it's full of self-depreciation and Leo doesn't feel himself breathing anymore.

 

“Or maybe you just didn't think we were equal right? We aren't, of course not, because I love you and you're just nice enough to give me some of your time. So who cares right? Because I'm dumb. I'm dumb, I'm dumb,” Neymar starts repeating, and his hands cover his eyes as he repeats _I'm dumb_ like it's a prayer, like he believes it.

 

“Neymar,” Leo chokes out. “Listen to me, please.”

 

Neymar doesn't acknowledge him, sobbing behind his hand and repeating _I'm dumb_ from time to time.

 

“I love you,” Leo pleads.

 

Neymar finally stops muttering to himself. “I hate you,” he sobs out, but his hands still hide his face.

 

“No you don't,” Leo says airily, and that hurts because why can't Neymar hate him, why can't he take it out on him like he rightfully should, instead of questioning himself when he's the most wonderful person in Leo's life.

 

“I do,” Neymar says and it sounds weak. “I will,” he amends, but that's still not it, so he goes on, his voice breaking again, “I want to, I should.”

 

“Yes you should,” Leo murmurs breathlessly.

 

“I can't,” Neymar cries out, and his body is wrecked by sobs.

 

Leo reaches out, taken over by the need to comfort him. He still hasn't said what he wants to say, still hasn't told Neymar he loved him and made him believe him. He still hasn't made Neymar aware that it's his own fucked up actions and not Neymar's fault, but Neymar flinches back as soon as his fingers brush his hand, and he jumps back. Neymar pushes him out and closes the door in his face, and by the time Leo reacts it's already too late.

 

That was his chance to apologize and explain things, and he let it escape. He stares incredulously at the closed door before it hits him, and then he throws himself against it, banging furiously on the door, begging Neymar to let him in, to let him explain, to believe him. But the door won't open and when Leo starts hearing faint sobs from the other side, he bolts away like it burnt him.

 

It was his chance, maybe his only chance, but now the door is closed and Neymar is crying on the other side of it.

 

Leo closes his eyes and clenches his fists, tries to put all his efforts in not passing out right there because of the sheer amount of guilt and anguish he's feeling. His body shakes and his heartbeat seems to follow its own rules.

 

When he opens his eyes again, he doesn't know how much time passed, but his body stopped shaking. His heart beats and there are dry tears on his face even though Leo didn't even feel himself crying. The door is still closed.

 

For the first time Leo realizes that he may have ruined everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't supposed to include that last scene in this chapter but well. I thought, might as well build the angst, right?  
> Also, as I said in the previous note, I'm busy - I have an exam next week, so I have no idea when I'll be able to write. That said, concerning the next chapter : well, everyone is sad I guess.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. Basically the last chapter. It's very overdramatic.

"Come on Leo," Geri complains, attempting to once again pull the covers away from his body. "You stink."

 

"I don't care," Leo grunts, voice muffled by his pillow.

 

"Well I do, I very much do, I feel like I'm going to faint from the smell. If you're not going to wash, at the very least open the windows!" Gerard keeps complaining, and Leo hears him move around the room. He yanks the window open and light and fresh air suddenly flood Leo's den.

 

"You make it look like you're mourning," Geri keeps ranting, most likely unable and unwilling to let the heavy atmosphere of the room settle in once again. "Are you dead? Are you dying? Is your mom dying?"

 

Leo thinks of Neymar's eyes and Neymar's words and Neymar's self-esteem plummeting down because of what Leo did, and he thinks if he's not dying then really it's a shame.

 

"You know perfectly well why I'm like that," he mutters instead, in a low voice because he isn't sure he wants to add to the strain Gerard is visibly trying to hide from his voice.

 

"Yes I know,” Geri answers as quietly as him.

 

And how could he not? Leo's been there for three days, and when he came back from Dani's place, eyes red and shaking, it was impossible for them not to know it had to do with Neymar. And here they went again, Leo locking himself in his room because he didn't know what to do. It feels like he always does the same thing, again and again, wallow in despair in this room, thinking it can't get any worse but it always does. And Leo still wants so desperately to see Neymar and finally get a chance to lay out his feelings before him, but if each new time is worse than the last, what will happen next time?

 

"Don't give up like that," Masche's voice finally breaks the silence, and his tone is assertive but his voice is pained. "You still haven't explained yourself to him."

 

Leo wants to yell at him, _what's the point?_ What's the point when Neymar already hates himself, what's the point when he's already broken and Leo wouldn't even deserve to be the one to put him back together.

 

And yet, he longs. He longs so desperately to go back there, to knock on Dani's door until his fists are bloody, to contact Neymar any ways he can and repeat he loves, he loves him, _I love you I swear I do_ _I_ _swear I'm not lying_ , but the idea that those efforts might be fruitless, that he may try his hardest and it will still be never be enough, is what leads him to curl on his bed instead, cry in the dark where he knows no one will see, no one will hear his pitiful sobs, no one will look down on him and say _you had it coming_. No one but himself anyway.

 

He tells himself his idleness has also to do with the fact he doesn't want to be a stalker. He wonders about that too – when does this love turn into obsession, when does the need to be forgiven overwhelm the need to apologize? He can't spend days, months, running after Neymar without it being harassment. But every time he starts thinking along these lines, he remembers Neymar's anguished eyes and Leo couldn't care less about being forgiven. The only thing he wants is for Neymar to be fine, and he knows the only way for that to happen would be to make him understand Leo is the bad wolf of this story, and that Neymar is nothing but pure unaltered wonder. If Neymar wants to hate him after that, Leo will embrace it, so long as he knows Neymar will be fine again.

 

"Leo?" Masche probes when he stays silent too long.

 

"I don't know what to do," Leo finally says, voice raspy.

 

"Talk to him. I'm sure I can make it happen."

 

"But if he doesn't listen to me--” he trails off.

 

"Ok. But if you're not resolved to do anything about it, then you have to get used to it. You're not going to stay locked up forever.” Masche's voice is tense with worry when he adds, “I won't let you.”

 

Leo doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want Masche to worry but he doesn't want to go out either. So he stays silent instead and Masche heaves a deep sigh before talking quietly to Geri, and the both of them leave his room, leaving him alone again, but with fresher air and newer light, and Leo figures it's an improvement, at least.

 

 

–

 

 

“We're taking you to a party,” Geri announces a few days later, a big smile on his face and Leo wonders how he manages to put it back on everyday when he always leaves so visibly defeated.

 

Leo snorts, munching on a snack bar. “No.”

 

“We are. Look, Masche's coming too so you don't have a choice.”

 

Leo levels him with a meaningful stare. He hasn't left his room in six days, and he can't believe Gerard would seriously consider _partying_ an option. Leo doesn't want to party. Leo only wants one thing and that's Neymar and he can't have him.

 

“What is this look for?” Gerard probes, striding up to him so he can tower over him, his tall form shadowing Leo. He's trying to be menacing.

 

“I'm not going to a party.”

 

“You don't have a choice. Right Masche?” Gerard turns his head towards Masche for approval, but Masche is appraising the scene silently. “I'll take that as a yes.”

 

Leo sighs deeply, closing his eyes briefly before looking up at Geri, straight into his eyes.

 

“Look Geri, I'm sorry, I appreciate what the both of you are doing but I don't want to go out right now.”

 

“You'll have to,” Gerard barely lets him finish. “You'll have to go out eventually, so might as well be now.”

 

Leo shakes his head. “Why are you so--”

 

“You're depressed,” Gerard blurts out, and Leo is but none of them had said it out loud so far. “Locking yourself up, not washing, not talking, not eating, you're-- just go out ok? Please.”

 

Silence follows his declaration. Geri is breathing heavily and he looks pained, almost vulnerable. Leo looks away, his eyes straying briefly on Masche's silent form before fixing on the wall. He doesn't have the motivation to worry about his friends too, yet here he is. Gerard is rarely serious, he's rarely so honest and open about his feelings, and it makes Leo sick again.

 

“Ok,” he says softly. He clears his throat and repeats louder, “Ok.”

 

It takes several seconds for Gerard's body to relax. “Well then, you have an hour to pretty up.” He pulls Leo up, pushing him towards his bathroom. “Clean up, change clothes, and shave that damn ginger bread.” He says the last part spitefully.

 

Leo frowns. “What's the issue with my beard?”

 

“It doesn't match you hair; it's creepy. If you don't shave it, I'll do it myself. Masche will help me hold you down.”

 

Gerard says that assuredly, and when Leo looks over at Mascherano, he's nodding, visibly agreeing on how unfitting his beard is.

 

Leo takes a long shower, he dresses with clean clothes, and when he's done, he feels less gross and his mind is clearer than it's been in days. He figures, maybe this party isn't too bad an idea.

 

 

-

 

 

This is that bad an idea.

 

Leo doesn't know many people in this party but then again he has no wishes to speak to anyone. He wonders why he even agreed to it when he has never been one to enjoy parties, and the situation with Neymar makes it impossible for him to enjoy anything. Alcohol tastes like piss, the music is too loud, the room smells of sweat. He felt clean but it's all gone now.

 

There are a few of his teammates here, and they all inquire about his health – the excuse that Mascherano apparently used as to why he's been to practice so sporadically these past weeks. But they see him there and they assume he's good to go again and expect him to practice the day after, and Leo wonders if maybe that was Masche's intention from the beginning, to morally force him into coming back to school. Geri wouldn't plane anything like that but he doesn't put it past Mascherano.

 

He only manages half an hour of this hell before he isolates himself, sitting gingerly on a stool with a glass of juice. He sips on it slowly, broodingly, and it feels so wrong, to be there, to be somewhere he's supposed to have fun when Neymar is still--- when he still doesn't know if Neymar left Dani's home at all since the last time, if he's found a bit more sleep, if he's stopped crying, if he's stopped wondering what he did wrong.

 

“Hey, you're Messi right?” a guy says, jolting him out of his thoughts. It's not a guy he knows, but Leo assumes he's a student like him if he knows his name. “Can I sit there?”

 

Leo nods. He resumes staring at his drink but the man apparently intends to have a conversation.

 

“I like the way you play football man. Have you ever thought about becoming a pro?”

 

“It's too late for that,” Leo mumbles.

 

The guy shrugs, and that's the start of several minutes of a one-sided conversation about football, a conversation that Leo has absolutely no interest in. He doesn't bother giving elaborate answers but it doesn't deter the stranger, who keeps talking to him regardless of his noncommittal grunting.

 

“--was the best match of the season, in my opinion,” the man says. “It was the talk of the campus, though I think that had to do with your boyfriend showing up. He's not with you today?”

 

The question catches Leo's attention immediately. The man – who offered his name at some point but Leo already forgot it – stares at him expectantly, and Leo stiffens.

 

“Why does it matter?”

 

“Ah no it's just, people on campus, they say you broke up, the two of you.” He taps his fingers nervously against the counter, sneaking glances at him before finally asking. “Did you?”

 

“None of your concern,” Leo mutters.

 

The guy hums. “As I thought,” he mumbles, before clearing his throat. “Can I ask you something weird? Like, you're free to tell me to fuck off if it's weird but--- do you think I'd have a chance with him?”

 

Leo's body tenses up incredibly fast. He finally turns his head towards the man, an inoffensive, average-looking man, who seems genuinely interested in the answer.

 

“Why would you ask me that?” he says, trying not to hiss but he can't help himself, unjustified anger filling his body.

 

“So it _i_ _s_ a weird question uh, sorry, it's just—- he's in my class and I've always-- but he was with you so-- but if he's single--- it's worth a shot right?”

 

“It's-” Leo is at a loss of words. He's angry even though he shouldn't be, even though he doesn't have any right to. But he thinks of Neymar and how vulnerable he is, and how fragile he is when he's in love, and no, that's not worth a shot, that's a full commitment and this guy knows absolutely nothing about Neymar. “It's not the moment.”

 

“Ah yeah,” the man is still tapping his fingers nervously against the counter. “Break-ups are tough uh? But I mean--” he glances at him nervously, “maybe that's my chance? I could offer him comfort, that could be nice.”

 

Leo is ready to burst but before he can say anything, the man rushes to add, “not to do anything weird but, it might be an opportunity to get closer to him?”

 

Leo isn't sure what he's thinking anymore, if he's selfless or selfish, if he wants to keep Neymar to himself or if he's afraid of him being hurt again. The stranger looks genuine, inoffensive, but all Leo can think of is how vulnerable Neymar is when he's in love, how he could break so easily and he suddenly thinks about all the men Neymar could be with in the future, and if they'll abuse his love too, if they'll know how to stop, if Neymar, broken as he is now, would be tougher or weaker against the onslaughts.

 

“ _No_ ,” he hisses, and he can't keep his body from shaking with anger.

 

The guy probably takes a good look at his face because he frowns, backing off. “Sorry, that was weird of me right? Yeah I'll just, see by myself if--”

 

“No,” Leo repeats. He glares at the guy, who's staring confusedly at him. “You don't touch him, at all.”

 

The guy frowns. “Look dude, I know that was weird of me and I'm sorry, but you kinda _broke up_ with the guy so if I want to--”

 

Leo punches him.

 

He isn't sure where it comes from and he's painfully aware it's unfair and unjustified, but he hits the dude anyway. The man falls from his stool, before quickly scrambling to his feet as Leo stands up, body tense.

 

“What the fuck man? What's wrong with you?!” the guy shouts, angry now, walking into his personal space, pushing him.

 

And really, that's all Leo needs to lunge at him, hitting him flat on the nose and this is satisfying. The guy hits back and that hurts and this is also satisfying. Leo grips his collar, pulls his fists back and they exchange blows and insults. He isn't sure exactly where their limbs go and what the words mean, but all too soon he's pulled back violently, and the other man is also being pushed away.

 

“That fucking cunt, what's wrong with him, what's wrong with you?!” the guy shouts, face red with anger, lips and nose bloody, fighting against Mascherano who's pulling him back.

 

Leo sneers, body tense as Geri pulls him back, and he doesn't fight the restraint but if Gerard lets him go he'd go back in. And it's unfair, he knows he's overreacting, but his head feels light, his lips is painful and there's an immense rage inside him that he has yet to find a way to evacuate.

 

“Leo,” Gerard hisses quietly in his ear. “What the hell.”

 

He takes him outside, in the streets where it's quiet and barely lit. Gerardtries to cleanhis face with a tissue he isn't sure is clean. Mascherano joins them not too long after.

 

“Did he even do anything?” Masche probes.

 

Leo shrugs. “He talked about Neymar,” he admits in a raspy voice.

 

Masche sighs. “Let's go back home. You'll tell us more there.”

 

 

–

 

 

The way back home is a twenty minute walk in the chilly air. His face feels numb, both from the pain and from the cold, and his fists ache.

 

Leo walks head down, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, Masche and Gerard flanked on either sides of him. He's paying only enough attention to his surroundings to recognize some buildings and raising his head, he realizes they're in Dani's neighborhood. They're walking by the very building he lives in, and Leo absentmindedly thinks that Neymar is there. He's just there.

 

He stops dead in his tracks.

 

“Why are you stopping?” Geri asks, turning towards him. He glances at the building quickly, and then nudges him forward. “Come on Leo, we'll see about that later.” And he resumes walking with Mascherano, expecting him to follow.

 

Leo doesn't follow. His eyes are glued to the building. He knows which floor Dani lives on, and he tries to remember what windows it could be. There's a balcony on the fourth floor where extravagant stuff lays and that can't be anyone else's but Dani's. He looks at the windows, most of them shutters closed, but there's a faint light filtering through one of them. He never entered the place, doesn't know where the rooms are, but he wonders – is this the one? It could be.

 

He's so close.

 

Masche calls his name again, and Leo takes a few steps forward and that's enough for Masche to turn around and keep walking. Therefore, he doesn't see where Leo's steps lead him.

 

He walks to the bottom of the building, staring up pensively at it. He barely drunk, only a beer and it's not enough to explain why he grabs the railing of the first balcony and hoists himself up. That part is easy enough. Once he's there it's more difficult ; he has to stand up on the handrail, a precarious move and he's quite unstable. He's short and his hands have trouble reaching the balcony above but he manages to grab onto it. His abs and arms flex painfully so he can grab higher up, until he climbed enough that he can finally use his feet to push against the bars.

 

He's hopping over the railing of the second level when he hears Gerard's voice.

 

“Leo? Where is h-- oh my god Leo, oh my--” and then the sounds of rushed steps, and Geri's voice, panicked and distressed, “Leo what the hell are you doing?”

 

Masche is calmer. “Get down from here, right now,” he says, his voice breaking no argument.

 

Geri grabs onto the balcony too, seemingly considering climbing after him so Leo repeats the same process, stands up on the handrail to grab onto the third-floor balcony, glancing quickly down at Masche pulling Gerard back. Geri palms his face, panicked.

 

“Leo, God Leo,” he says, and Leo meets Masche's helpless eyes before he turns around and resumes climbing.

 

It's a strain on his muscles, but Leo ignores the pain. His arms have to be good enough to reach Neymar otherwise they're worthless.

 

It seems a longer process than the previous floor, his muscles already tired from the efforts. There's hissing down below, and Masche continuously and helplessly ordering him to climb down, even though he's already too high to go down safely.

 

His legs and arms are shaking as he climbs up to the fourth floor. He's breathing heavily and he's slower, his muscles painful and shaky. He fears they'll stop working altogether – he doesn't want to fall after all. He doesn't want to die. He knows he's being reckless and stupid but Neymar is just _there._

 

He finally, surprisingly reaches the fourth-level balcony. Once his feet are flat on the ground, he sags against the railing, panting. He hears Masche yells, _good now_ _fucking_ _stay ther_ _e,_ but behind the French door is most likely a living room, and it's a bedroom Leo is looking for. From what he remembers of Neymar's tales, there's a guestroom and Leo assumes that's where he'd be sleeping.

 

Switching from the balcony to the windows is another thing entirely, and one his friends don't seem to appreciate if the hissing down below is anything to go by. He stands on the railing again, holding onto the wall for support. His legs tremble ; if he loseshisbalance he'll fall. He plasters his body against the wall and his short legs miraculously are just long enough to reach the edge of the window. Once there he has nowhere to rest the sole of his feet, and all he can do is balance on his tiptoes and grab onto the wall in hopes it'll keep him from falling.

 

He still has a window to go if he wants to reach the one where light filters through the shutters. He feels like a fly, drawn by the light, ready to crash and burn just so he can get closer to it.

 

Sliding his body against the wall, he reaches the window, and once there he immediately squats down, sitting on the edge. It feels safer and he heaves a sigh on relief, finally looking down to see Gerard and Masche down below. Their eyes are riveted on him, Masche gripping his phone and Geri gesticulating wildly.

 

Leo rests his head against the window, feeling the cold metallic shutters against his skull. He takes a shaky breath in and stares at the night sky. If this room isn't Neymar's, then whoever it is that will open the window won't let him see him, and all he's done will be for naughts. It's his last chance, and now he can only pray that fate will be kind to him.

 

He shifts so his back rests against the window frame and he knocks on the shutters. When nothing happens, he knocks again and calls out tentatively, _Neymar?_

 

He listens attentively, his ears pressed against the shutters. He thinks he hears shuffling on the other side, a window opening and the shutters open suddenly. The movement unsettles him, and he flails for a second, body titling into the emptiness. He hears cries down below and he thinks he's going to fall but two arms wrap around his torso and push him back forcefully against the window frame, and the pull is so strong it almost cuts his breath when his back hits the wall.

 

He freezes, wide-eyed, eyes unfocused while his friends cry out in relief at the bottom of the building. Leo isn't sure he's breathing, the near-death experience shocking his body into stillness. There's a heavy, shaky breathing near his ear and Leo's nostrils are filled with the all too familiar scent of bubble gum.

 

_Thank God._

 

He turns his head slowly, meeting two wide and fearful orbs. Neymar looks shocked and scared, his nails digging painfully into his flesh through the fabric of his shirt.

 

“Ney,” Leo whispers, and he could cry for how happy he is to see him again, finally.

 

Neymar tightens his hold on him, and without any warning he drags him inside the room. Leo's legs almost give out from under him once he's on firm ground, but Neymar's arms are still around him, steadying him. They stay like that for a few seconds, catching their breaths, before Neymar seems to realize their position and he jumpsaway.

 

“Ney-”

 

“Is that a dream?” Neymar glances back and forth between him and the open window. “Are you-- real, what are you-- why did you--”

 

“I am,” Leo cuts in. His legs are shaking but now that he's there he focuses on Neymar and nothing else matters. “Real,” he clarifies. “I want to talk to you.”

 

“You want to talk to me? So you just-- climbed up-- oh god what happened to your face, what's happening I don't get it I--”

 

“I got into a fight,” he cuts in to keep Neymar from freaking out. “It's fine. I just-- they won't let me see you. I really want- need, I really need to talk to you. Please,” he begs.

 

Neymar calms down, and Leo sees the switch. There's still disbelief and worry written all over his features but his expression turns serious.

 

“There's nothing to talk about,” he says quietly.

 

“There is. I have so many things to explain to you.”

 

“No,” Neymar shakes his head.

 

“Ney-”

 

“No, I don't want to hear it,” Neymar says, and his voice is still quiet and soft, fragile. “It hurts ok?”

 

Leo stares at him helplessly. Now is his chance, he found the right window, he didn't die and that's the moment. He can't let that opportunity go.

 

“Can you let me talk nonetheless? You don't have to answer and you can kick me out or push me out the window afterward.”

 

Neymar stiffens at the mention of the window, but he nods anyway.

 

Leo takes a deep breath in. He wonders where to start. He thinks he should start at the beginning.

 

“I made a mistake,” seems like a good start. “I sent you a confession that was meant to someone else. And I only realized my mistake when you started talking about being my boyfriend, even though I thought I was talking to a girl. By then it was-- too late, you already sent so many messages. I was shocked, I didn't know what to do so I thought I'd deal with it later.”

 

“You told me to meet you some days after,” Neymar says quietly, probably recalling events as Leo tells them.

 

Leo nods. “I meant to tell you then. But you looked so-- happy and eager, I don't know what happened exactly but I didn't find the strength to tell you the truth.” Neymar's brows knit together at that. “I know, I fucked up. I should have told you, and maybe you're right, at that time, it might have been pity but I didn't want to hurt you. So, I talked with my friends-”

 

Neymar's voice cuts in. “Mascherano and Piqué?” Leo nods. “They're in this too?”

 

“They're--- they help me, but no, that's on me, that's my fault. Just listen ok?” He waits for Neymar to nod before resuming. “At the time, we didn't know each other well, right? You barely knew me, we'd barely talked. So we- I thought, you didn't really love _me_. How could you love someone you didn't really know? So I thought, if I'm not up to your expectations, you'll quickly realize you don't love me and the break up will be quick, swift and painless.”

 

Neymar smiles ironically. “But my standards are really low, uh?” he says in a self-depreciating tone. He changes the topic before Leo can answer. “Did you miss it on purpose? Our first date?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Neymar ponders over it for a bit, staring at the floor. The room is lit by a single lamp on the bedside table, and he still looks sad and skinny in the dim light, but at least there are emotions on his face.

 

“Then why did you come in the end? I don't get it.”

 

“I--” Leo remembers Neymar, alone in the rain, and how pitiful he looked and how heartbreaking it was and how guilty he felt. “I couldn't. I'm not strong Ney. Not the good person you thought I was. I couldn't, because it was my fault you were drenched in rain. It was also my fault you felt bad about being too tactile, about dressing too gay or, or about the karaoke, I'm--- I tried so hard, to make you hate me, and I kept backtracking because I wasn't strong enough to be honest with you but I wasn't strong enough to hurt you either. It was all about me, in the end it's always been about me.”

 

Leo clenches his eyes tightly as he speaks, his words making him light-headed when he realizes how completely selfish and cowardly he's been all this time, and admitting it to Neymar, he feels like the most selfish scumbag on earth.

 

Neymar breathes heavily. “It doesn't make sense,” he says, voice airy. “Why would you--- let it go this far, it doesn't make sense.”

 

“I know,” Leo admits shakily. “I got trapped in my own lies. Once I started, it was already too late, I couldn't go back, and the more I did, the more I hurt you, the less it felt possible to be honest with you. You-- you should have been hating me but you loved me even harder and I- that made me angry. I wanted you to hate me, you were supposed to hate me, the things I did to you Ney--- why couldn't you hate me?”

 

Neymar frowns, and his eyes look wet. “I loved you,” he says, like it's an answer, and Leo shouldn't blame him but he can't help it. Why is Neymar so vulnerable, why is he so submissive to his whim? Leo wants him to be better, to be tough and stand on his own.

 

“I realized too late I had so much power over you. That you'd let me do anything if--”

 

Neymar makes a noise of protest. “I wouldn't.”

 

Leo stares at him, disbelieving. “Neymar I said I'd fuck your sister. I made a point of not enjoying the things you enjoyed. I told you not to act a certain way and you _did_ _it_.”

 

Neymar flinches, but he doesn't answer.

 

“And then I tried to break up with you but it was already too late, you didn't let me and I couldn't hurt you anymore because-- God, I love you,” he blurts out, and Neymar's eyes snap to his face.

 

He seems about to protest but Leo is quicker than him.

 

“It's not a lie, I do. I fell in love with you, somewhere in between trying to make you hate me and then trying to soothe your pain. I fell for you so hard and I realized it way too late, and I didn't want to hurt you anymore so I-- I'm an asshole, I know I am, but that day I came for you and we had sex, I was decided to lie to your forever and be your boyfriend for real.” Neymar frowns again. “I'm an asshole, I know, I'm sorry, but I love you so much I—”

 

Neymar rubs his eyes, palms covering his face. “Liar, fucking liar,” he mutters, and he sound like he's trying to convince himself.

 

“It's not a lie Ney. I swear, that's why-- what you said, it's not pity, it's not a game or anything like that. You're not stupid, or pitiful or lame, you--” Leo feels breathless, and he takes several steps on his shaky legs, reaching Neymar and pulling his hands away from his face. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

 

Neymar looks at him, eyes blurry, hands shaking, and Leo has a lump in his throat.

 

“That's why I'm here today, that's all I want you to know. It's not you. It's _me_. It's me; I'm a coward, an asshole, a selfish jerk, any insults you can think of. It's me, only me, only my fault and not yours, never yours.”

 

Neymar shuts his eyes tightly, tears falling from his eyes and he's still trembling. He makes a pitiful _uh_ sound in the back of his throat, a whimper, a useless protest.

 

“Never yours,” Leo repeats. “It fucks me up that you can be so insecure around me when you're-- you're perfect.”

 

Neymar whines _uh_ again.

 

“Maybe I'm biased, but you are. You're-- beautiful and funny and nice, and I love the way you dress and the way you laugh and the way you stare up at me even though you're taller than me, and the way you're honest and open, and the way you sing off-key but you never care and--”

 

Neymar sobs out loud, body shaking and Leo steps even closer, reaching for his head to hold it, fingers scratching his scalp soothingly. Leo feels on the verge of tears too.

 

“I'm the asshole of this story, I'm the bad guy, but you're-- a diamond, a jewel, you're gold, the goddamn sun, anything shiny and beautiful and rare. You're amazing, you're--- you light up everything, God you deserve so much, you deserve everything, I'd give you the world if I could I swear I would.”

 

Leo's crying too now, tears falling into his mouth and he eats them as he speaks.

 

“I love you,” he repeats. “I need you to believe that, I just need you to believe that.”

 

“What am I supposed to do now?” Neymar sobs out, words barely understandable through his tears. “I don't know what to do.”

 

“Nothing. You don't have to do anything, you can just--”

 

“I want to be with you,” Neymar says, almost wailing.

 

Leo tenses up. “No you can't--- you should hate me, don't you get it?”

 

Neymar ignores him, insisting. “If you love me I want to be with you.”

 

“No, Neymar no.”

 

“If you love me I want to be with you,” Neymar repeats. “But it hurts. You don't trust--”

 

“I do.”

 

“I don't. I don't think I trust you, but I want to be with you, if you love me I--”

 

“You want to be with me,” Leo finishes for him, and Neymar nods, and he looks like a small child, unable to deal with contradicting feelings, unable to decide what's the best for himself. “I hurt you so much; I don't have the right to be with you.”

 

Neymar frowns and he shakes his head, body restless, contrite like a child about to throw a tantrum, about to stomp the ground in anger.

 

“If you love me, I want to be with you,” he repeats. “I want to be with you, but I--- I don't even know who is _you_ anymore.”

 

“An asshole,” Leo offers. “A bastard. Someone not worth wanting.”

 

“Uh,” Neymar seems completely lost. “I can't let you go. Did you-- you wanted to talk to me so bad you climbed a building for me?” he says, voice airy and high.

 

“That's not a proof of love, I was reckless, that's not enough--”

 

“I want to be with you,” Neymar repeats again, and it tears Leo's heart, make his own body shake and he bites on his lips not to sob out loud – the tears are enough as it is. “I want you to love me.”

 

“I do love you.”

 

“I want to feel it, I-” Neymar rubs his eyes painfully and Leo takes his hands away, brings them to his lips so he can kiss his palm, planting pecks against the soft trembling skin and Neymar whimpers as thought pained. “ _Love me_ ,” he hisses.

 

Leo knows what he should do, what he'd do if he was a better person. He'd tell Neymar he can't and he'd leave and he wouldn't let Neymar get together with him again. He wouldn't let Neymar forgive him, he'd go out of his life and disappear. But Leo isn't a strong person. He isn't a strong person and he wants Neymar, selfishly, and his resolve crumbles as Neymar pushes, and Leo can't resist him, can never resist him, can't tell him no. And he thinks if he were to leave Neymar now, like that, while he sobs and whimpers, Neymar wouldn't believe he loved him at all, he'd feel abandoned and unloved all over again and Leo can't bear that either.

 

He kisses Neymar's wrist tenderly. He lets go of his arm to card his fingers through Neymar's hair, leaning forward to kiss his jaw, all the way up to his ear, and Neymar trembles in his arms, crying but his sobs subduing.

 

Leo nuzzles at his ear, kisses around it. He pecks all over his jaw and cheeks but he avoids his mouth and Neymar is the one to drag his head there, searching his lips with his own.

 

The kiss is salty and wet, both their tears mixing with saliva, and it's sad and desperate and painful, Neymar gripping his shirt tightly. Leo's lips are split because of the fight and the pressure hurts so he presses harder, and when Neymar realizes he's bruised he licks over the cut soothingly.

 

“Why did you get into a fight?” Neymar asks in a hushed tone, breathing inches away from his face.

 

“A guy asked me if he had a chance with you now that we broke up,” Leo admits, and he holds Neymar's head in his hands, caressing lovingly the acne scars there, this small imperfection that he's so enamored with. Neymar's natural curls and his scarred skin and his bubble-gum scent and his bubble-gum taste and his raspy voice and the way his heart beats against his own – it's wonderful, it's heavenly, and Leo shouldn't have any of it but it's there anyway and the tears won't stop flowing.

 

Neymar giggles. It's a weak, aborted laugh but it's here nonetheless and Leo surges forward, eager to swallow the sound to keep it inside him forever.

 

Neymar holds him back. “Careful, you're hurt.”

 

“Doesn't matter. Let me kiss you.” He presses forward again and Neymar allows him, his tongue gentle and his fingers careful as they reach for his face, caress the bruises there.

 

Leo slips a hand under Neymar's shirt, runs it over his skinny stomach, maps his ribs and bones when he can feel them – he feels them too much – kisses Neymar desperately like a starved man.

 

He thought he broke Neymar and maybe he did, but Neymar isn't very smart because he also gives him the power to build him back up, so Leo touches all over his chest, all over his back, feels his skin and marvels at how Neymar is in one piece, how he's not broken, how he's whole in his arms. _Neymar, Neymar, Neymar,_ is the only thing in his head, a song, an apology, a prayer.

 

They end up naked on the bed but they don't do anything. Leo kisses any expanse of skin he can reach, any part of Neymar's body, basks in the sight and feel and taste of him. He wants nothing more than to fill himself with Neymar until he's so full of it he implodes. He wants nothing more than to flush his body against his naked skin to assure himself again and again that's he's there and he's whole.

 

Neymar sometimes whimpers, sometimes says, _be with me_ , sometimes says, _love me_. Leo thinks he wants to say _I love you,_ too, but he never says it, because he isn't sure who Leo is and it's fine, it'll be fine, Leo will show him he's genuine, that he's almost the same. He'll devote a lifetime, dedicate all his prayers to ensure that Neymar smiles again and maybe Neymar will tire of him eventually, maybe Leo will be the one left behind in the end, and it's not a bad thought.

 

But in the meantime, Neymar says _love me_ so Leo does, because he's never been able to refuse him anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, quick PSA : don't climb buildings, that's dangerous, stupid, and completely unnecessary.  
> Anyway, that's the end? I mean, the 15th chapter is more of an epilogue, your typical 'months later' stuff. The plot as I conceived it stops there. That story, and this chapter in particular, was very overdramatic but I hope you enjoyed it?


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, the epilogue. I was busy and it took me more time than I thought to write this, but now it's done. It looks a bit like a chapter, but I guarantee it's an epilogue. Also maybe you noticed the rating going up - there's still no smut, but I've been meaning to change it for a while and only now remembered to. Better late than never.  
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it !

Leo thought he'd woke up next to Neymar the day after, his face inches away from his, full lips and long eyelashes and eyelids puffy from crying. He thought he'd be able to lean in and kiss him, trace his features with his fingers, press his lips all over his face.

 

The reality though is that he only catches sight of Neymar for a second before his body reacts to the angry voice booming in the room. He jolts awake, scrambling off the bed to face the visitor. The visitor happens to be one very angry-looking Dani Alves, and as soon as his brain catches up to it Leo rushes to grab a pillow to hide his crotch.

 

He faces Dani, his whole body sore and aching, his heart beating fast, while Dani shouts insults at him. They're all in Portuguese, but he gets the gist of it.

 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Dani ends up saying. “In _my_ place? I thought I told you to never--”

 

“Dani,” Neymar whines, burying his head under a pillow. “You're too loud.”

 

“Don't worry I won't be loud for long. I'm kicking him out and then I'm done.”

 

“Wai- you can't-” Leo stumbles over his words, not awake enough for this.

 

“I can. That's my home, you fucking perv. If you don't leave _right now_ I'm going to make you leave and I won't be gentle.”

 

Leo clutches the pillow, and winces because of the pain it sends through his stiff arm. “Even so, you won't keep me from seeing Ney.”

 

“Watch me. You don't have any right to be there. That's all you wanted from the start, _puta_ , all this while you just wanted an easy fuck--”

 

“No!” Leo shouts indignantly. He sees Neymar emerging from the sheets, sleepily staring at them. “That's not- I don't care about that.”

 

“Oh, you're going to tell me you two didn't fuck?”

 

“Of course not!”

 

Dani snorts and looks him up and down, and Leo is suddenly extremely aware of the fact he's completely naked and pathetically holding onto a pillow to hide his crotch like he'd hold onto the last shreds of his dignity.

 

“We didn't do anything! I swear, I didn't do anything.”

 

“And I'm supposed to believe you?” Dani asks ironically, but he looks angrier the longer this conversation drags on. Leo has no doubts that Dani won't hesitate to hit him if his accusations turn out to be true, and for once Leo doesn't really want to be beat up. His muscles and face are sore enough as it is.

 

“I swear--”

 

Dani glowers at him, ready to bark but their exchange is interrupted by Neymar's voice.

 

“Dani,” he calls. He's sitting on the bed, reclining lazily on his hands, hair mussed and eyes sleepy, sheets pooling around his stomach and the sun hitting his chest. Leo takes a moment to admire how breathtaking he is. He looks skinnier than a few weeks ago, but Leo fully intends on feeding him.

 

“Ney-”

 

“We didn't do anything,” Neymar cuts Dani off. “He's not lying.”

 

Dani shuts up, and he looks a bit suspicious but if Neymar says so, he can't doubt him. Leo understands how the sight of the two of them naked in a bed can bemisleading, but he stills feels a bit sick at the thought he'd want Neymar for nothing more than carnal pleasure.

 

“Still,” Dani mumbles. “I still want you out of my place,” he says to Leo, leveling him with a menacing stare.

 

That's when a smile splits Neymar's tired face, a wide smile, a flash of bright white teeth before he starts giggling madly.

 

“Dani!” he exclaims. “Let him put on clothes at least! Look at him!” Neymar seems to find Leo's predicament hilarious. Leo would spare himself a look but he's mesmerized by the sight of Neymar laughing, loud and joyous. When he glances at Dani, he's staring too and Leo thinks, probably, he hasn't seen Neymar laugh in weeks.

 

Dani ends up huffing, shrugging before he turns around. He leaves the room and slams the door behind him, which seems like a passive-aggressive way of saying _you can stay for now but don't overstay your welcome_.

 

Leo sighs, relieved, and watches Neymar comes down from his laughter, sprawling on the bed, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. There's a soft smile at the corner of his lips. Leo glances warily at the closed door before dropping the pillow and climbing on the bed.

 

“He's right though, I shouldn't be here,” he says. Yesterday, they both were emotional and mad, and he wants to give Neymar the chance to back out. Maybe the new day has given him a clearer mind.

 

The smile drops off Neymar's face and he glares at him before turning on his sides, showing his back to him.

 

Leo sighs, laying on the bed to slot against Neymar's back. He wraps his arms around him and presses his forehead against his spine.

 

“You should kick me out,” he whispers. “I don't want to hurt you again.”

 

Neymar is tense in his arms, but his voice is petulant and childish. “I said love me and you said you would. I don't feel very loved right now.”

 

Leo lifts his head to look at his face, sees his lips pursed into a pout, and despite everything, it makes him smile.

 

“Ok,” he bends down to kiss his cheeks. “But don't complain when you have enough of me,” he says teasingly, because really he'll be happy if Neymar could take everything he needs from him until he has enough of it and he finally pushes him away.

 

Neymar smiles and his mood changes, just like that. “Now that's better,” he says.

 

“But first,” Leo says, and Neymar frowns disapprovingly. “We're putting on clothes and then I'm feeding you.”

 

“Feed yourself!” Neymar says indignantly, but he looks pleased by the plan. “Did you lose weight?”

 

“Did you?” Leo bites back, and Neymar is quiet for a while.

 

“Can we do the thing where we order one dessert for two?” he finally asks.

 

Leo nods. Anything to make him smile.

 

 

–

 

 

Two weeks later, and everything is wonderful. There is no shaky period like Leo thought there would be. They spend most of their free time together and that makes Neymar happy and Leo is happy when Neymar is happy.

 

He gets some shit from Masche and Geri, who still haven't digested his nightly escapade, but overall they seem glad about the arrangement.

 

_(“I peed my pants!” Geri had said, and Leo didn't press to know if he really did or if he was joking as usual, because if it wasn't a joke Leo would have deal with how worried he made his friends.)_

 

His room smells of bubble gum and it's the most amazing thing. They settle back into what was before, that week before Daniella told Neymar the truth, where Leo played at being a boyfriend. It's nice and eery, like a dream or a delusion.

 

“Which team?” Neymar asks, slouched in his couch as Leo starts the game of FIFA.

 

“Barça,” Leo says without thinking.

 

Neymar blinks owlishly at him. “Don't you support Real though?”

 

“Oh,” Leo says, and he realizes that's a thing he said, once upon a time, and he's been careful with it before but now there's no reason to. “No, that was… a lie. I've always supported Barcelona,” he says hesitantly, awkwardly, because it's weird to talk about it, even though they both know _wh_ _y_ he lied.

 

Neymar is quiet for a moment, considering him, and then he smiles but it's weird. “That's even better then! I knew you were a smart guy.”

 

He takes his controller and sinks deeper into the couch and that seems to be it. Leo takes his seat next to him, and the game starts, the both of them Barcelona but in different colors.

 

It takes a whole minute for Leo to realize Neymar is barely playing, and when he turns to him his hands are shaking, and his face is twisted like he's in pain. Leo pauses the game.

 

Of course it's only been two weeks, and it was stupid to think it could be so easy.

 

“Ney,” he says softly, and he can see Neymar trying to shake out of his stupor. He fails; he doesn't manage to fake a smile and he drops the controller, covering his eyes with an arm instead.

 

“Sorry it's---” his voice is shaky, and Leo knows he's trying not to cry. “It's so stupid, so meaningless but I---” he sobs and presses his face into his arm. “So stupid,” he repeats before crying silently.

 

Leo scoots over, presses against his sides – he was delusional to think he'd ever get rid of the guilt, because it's always there and it always should be.

 

“Neymar,” he says, sadly, reaching out to take his arm away so he can see his face. “It's not stupid.” He watches helplessly as Neymar cries. “I'm sorry.”

 

Neymar sucks his lips in, and he looks a bit like a kid trying to keep his tantrum in because he knows he's not articulate enough to talk. His mouth quivers and Leo presses his thumb against his temple and Neymar gives up, letting out big fat sobs and clinging to him, pressing against his chest and wetting his shirt with his tears.

 

It's only been two weeks and of course it won't be easy, of course it's not going to be smooth. Leo admonishes himself for his delusions, and he holds Neymar tighter and he feels bad, but Neymar's clinging to him and Leo wants him to be better so he turns off his brain and when Neymar stops crying he cuddles him on the couch and tells him all about how he came to know Barça and what he likes about it and he tells Neymar they'll go to _Camp Nou_ together and Neymar nods and sniffles like a kid.

 

Neymar seems to like it when he speaks about a future that includes _them_ , so Leo regales him with plans for the holidays and horrible date ideas and unrealistic dreams and for now it's enough.

 

 

–

 

 

Two months later Neymar says _my sister is coming to town_ like he's testing him. He doesn't ask anything so Leo doesn't answer.

 

He torments his brain wondering what to do, if he should go or if it's better not to. He wonders what Neymar wants him to do. He isn't ready to face his sister, not after the things he said about her – he feels like apologizing to her even though she doesn't _know_. He thinks Neymar himself isn't sure whether he wants them to meet again or not.

 

In the end he goes. Rafaella is as lively and charming as ever. Nothing happens, and Neymar seems happy enough that he gets along with his sister, and yet there's something award in the air, something in the way neither their knees nor their hands nor any parts of their bodies brush during the night.

 

When they come back they both sleep in their respective room, and they don't sleep together for several days.

 

When he finally does lay Neymar in his bed, Neymar is sketchy and he only relaxes when Leo showers him with _I love you_ _s_ and _you're beautiful_ and _I have eyes_ _only_ _for you_ and _you're the only one that_ _matters_.

 

Still, the next time Rafaella comes over, Leo doesn't see her.

 

 

–

 

 

Six months later, and the team won a match and they organize a party in the club facilities. It's not exactly legal for them to be there but the coach pretends he doesn't know and they all bring friends along.

 

Neymar is there too, cheering loudly with everyone, his skin glistening with sweat and cheap champagne.

 

“Leo!” Geri calls him, and next second he's by his sides laughing. “The hat-trick man!”

 

“You need more than goals to win a game,” Leo reminds him, but he does feel pretty happy, buzzing with energy, thriving off of victory and of Neymar's arm around his shoulders.

 

“Yeah yeah,” Geri brushes his words off absentmindedly. “Marc come here, you're tall too!”

 

Bartra comes over diligently, questioningly, and Gerard pulls Leo between them, crouches down and indicates for Bartra to do the same. Leo realizes what they're doing too late, and they're already lifting him up, standing tall with Leo on their shoulders, his hands shooting out to hold onto their hair.

 

“F- put me down, Geri, Marc!”

 

Gerard laughs loudly and people cheers, and Neymar is giggling madly too, clapping as Gerard and Marc parades him around. They make a few rounds with him on their shoulders, have him suffer through Masche's mocking smile and numerous camera flashes. Neymar follows the procession, clapping and singing his glory. Eventually, they tire of carrying him, and Neymar moves to the front of the trio, opening his arms.

 

“I'll catch you!” he says.

 

“You won't catch me, you're skinny and w-” before Leo can finish his sentence, his carriers throw him forwards, laughing, directly into Neymar's arms.

 

Of course, he can't catch him. They both tumble and fall unceremoniously on to the floor, Neymar cushioning most of his fall.

 

“Ow,” Neymar groans, closing his eyes in pain.

 

“I told you,” Leo mumbles, moving quickly not to crush him.

 

“You're heavier than I thought.” Neymar opens one eye, then two, to study him quizzically. “Why?”

 

Leo stands up and offers him a hand and Neymar seems to be struck with the answer.

 

“It's all in your ass isn't it?”

 

Leo slaps his head and Neymar laughs cheekily.

 

A bit later, and some of them are wasted but Neymar insisted they stay sober because he apparently wants to have celebratory sex afterward. Leo doesn't protest the idea.

 

The music is still loud so Neymar leans into him to talk. “Should we slip away?” he asks, something playful in his eyes.

 

Leo nods and they stumble out, somehow finding the storage room where Leo presses Neymar against the wall to kiss him. There's no way he'll do anything where they can be caught, but Neymar doesn't seem to be aware of that because his movements are rushed and his lips restless.

 

Leo indulges him, gives back passionate kisses and tender caresses, intoxicates himself off of his taste. He's still buzzing with everything, with the cheers and the victory and the laughter. The music is loud even from there and it covers the sound of Neymar's moans when he lets them out.

 

“Leo,” he whines when Leo moves to kiss his jaw. “Love y-”

 

Leo is back on his lips in no time, eating his words before he can say them. He kisses Neymar, hard, meanly,and Neymar whines again. Confident he got his message across, Leo breaks off the kiss to suck on his neck. Neymar protests.

 

“What about freedom of speech?” he complains.

 

“You can say whatever you want,” Leo points out.

 

“Can I? Then, I lo- _m_ _m_ _f_ ,” his voice his muffled by another kiss, and Leo bites his lips to get his point across.

 

He goes back to the crook of his neck and Neymar laughs briefly.

 

“This goes against my rights!” he protests. “I have the right to say it.”

 

“No you don't, I forbid it.”

 

“You're silencing me? Dictator. That's what you are, a dictator.” Leo bites his neck carefully and Neymar gasps. “A dictator! A very tiny dictator, but a dictator nonetheless.”

 

“What does my height have to with it?” Leo mutters, kissing up to Neymar's ear, and Neymar tilts his head to accommodate him.

 

“Everything. You're a little dictator. The tiniest dictator. The smallest dictator.” Leo huffs against his skin and nibbles on his earlobe, and Neymar moans, bucking against him. “Hey little dictator, when are you going to give a hand to your most devoted subject?” he asks, bucking his hips again to make sure he understands.

 

Leo snorts. “You really think we're going to do anything in the storage room?”

 

“We're not?” Neymar asks, confused and disappointed. “Don't I get a say in this?”

 

“Absolutely none,” Leo smiles widely when Neymar pouts. He isn't willing to take the risk of someone catching them, because it's not proper, because he'd never hear the end of it, because it's embarrassing, and most of all because the thought that someone else could see Neymar while he's lost in the throes of pleasure makes his blood boil.

 

“I knew it,” Neymar finally says when Leo dives back down into his neck. “ _Dictator_ ,” he hisses, pulling his head back roughly to kiss him.

 

They both forget after that, busy kissing and touching, and soon enough Leo pulls off to take them back to his dorm, where there will only be the two of us and there won't be any music to cover Neymar's voice.

 

When they're both naked on his bed, mind clouded with lust, Neymar tries again.

 

“I lo-” he starts, but Leo is there to silence him with kisses.

 

Neymar huffs, annoyed. “You can't keep me from saying it forever.”

 

“I can,” Leo says decidedly, moving just so and Neymar arches his back.

 

“You want to bet?” Neymar's eyes twinkle excitedly.

 

“It's not a game,” Leo says seriously, and Neymar grins, the playfulness of his face contrasting sharply with the lasciviousness of his body.

 

Leo presses his hands harder on Neymar's hips and kisses him deeper, hoping to distract him from his new-found mission. He hates the way his hands tremble and his head feels dizzy, because Neymar didn't say _it_ but he tried to, and even though Leo stopped him, even though he'll always stop him, it's still there, hanging in the air, and Leo's desperate and in love and it makes his heart beat faster.

 

Later they cuddle under the covers, sweaty and tired. Neymar sticks to his skin, eyes half-lidded and he murmurs into his cheek _eu te amo_.

 

“That doesn't count,” Leomumbles, but his heart misses a beat and he's overwhelmed with the sudden urge to cry.

 

Neymar grins, and Leo thinks _not yet, not yet._ But maybe one day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally a free woman.
> 
> I think this is the time for me to thank people. Thanks to everyone who read this story, everyone who left kudos and bookmarked it, and special thanks to anyone who ever left a comment because they make my day. Thanks everyone for sticking around and reading it up until now, even though it turned out probably more dramatic than you expected. See you soon!


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